The Night of July 14th, 1960
by Andamogirl
Summary: Once again Michelito Loveless, James West's and Artemus's Gordon new arch enemy tries to kill the two agents of the Secret Service. This time, he uses a Time Travel machine to get rid of them. A time travel crossover story (WWW & Mr. Lucky). And bikinis!
1. Teaser

**THE NIGHT OF JULY 14** **th** **, 1960**

 **By Andamogirl**

Author's note: post series and post the second TV movie. Sequel to my story 'The Night of Michelito Loveless's revenge'.

Reference to my story "The Night of the Ice Cold Death".

A Wild Wild West / Mr. Lucky crossover.

In the Mr. Lucky show, the city and port where Lucky and Andamo are living their adventures is not specified, so I invented one: Puerto Verde, California. The series was filmed at the Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios in Hollywood with additional locations filmed in Long Beach, California.

References to the episode "The Night of the Assassin";

 _Jim: To the memory of when we first met, when I kissed you._

 _Lupita: As I recall, I followed that up by slapping you._

 _Jim: True, but the first memory overwhelms the second._

 _Artie: What about me, I have no memories at all._

 _Griswold: And who is this preposterous female and her gunmen? What's she got to do with this case?_

 _Jim: Well, aside from the fact that she wears tangerine lipstick._

 _Artie: And wields a knife with style._

 _Jim: We don't know a thing about her, sir._

The Night of the Assassin.

Warning: the boys are spending quite some time in their underwear; there's foreplay (in the tag, no sex), and a lot of cigarette smoking. Fluff.

WWW

 **TEASER**

 _Washington D.C. Mid-October, 1890_

 _Indian summer_

 _Mexican Embassy, garden, at night_

Lupita Quesada took a sip of Champagne listening to the frog songs filling the air and even heard the distant hoot of an owl. She automatically looked up at the high trees lining the pond located at the far end of the Mexican Embassy garden.

The moonlight and the stars shining reflected on the calm water.

Breaking the night times sounds, she asked her companion, holding her against his solid frame, "Artemus, do you remember when you called me 'sugar'? It wasn't nice of you to call me that," then a mischievous smile appeared on her lips.

Artemus Gordon chuckled, pressing kisses to Lupita's forehead. "Yes, and I was pointing my gun at you, when I called you 'sugar' as I recall. That wasn't nice of me to call you 'sugar', but for my defense, I wasn't fond of you at that time. You and your vaqueros had me bush-whacked, tied up, gagged and locked in a coffin. I was pretty crossed at you at that time and I had reasons to feel that way."

He slowly curled his hand around the back of Lupita's neck, leaned in toward the beautiful woman he was dating tonight, and kissed her, their eyes sliding shut.

It was soft and gentle and light. It was a chaste kiss, slow and tentative. Then he re-opened his eyes and pulled back a little watching Lupita's reaction.

Lupita re-opened her eyes too, frowning, her face scrunched, looking chagrined, disappointed, but with a mocking sparkle in her eye. "That's it? That's our first kiss? That was hardly a kiss. I'm sure that you can do better than that."

Feeling a bit offended, an eyebrow arched, Artie huffed and said, "I'm an excellent kisser, but I don't want to rush things…" He explained as his hand still lingered on Lupita's cheek, caressing it with his thumb tenderly. "Because I want to savor each second I pass with you."

Lupita smiled, amused, with love in her eyes. "I know that. I was teasing you." She put her empty glass on the gray stone balustrade at the bottom of the staircase, next to Artie's. "Speaking again of our first meeting… well, second meeting, when you were disguised as a priest, I remember finding you dangerous and so handsome… even in your black cassock. Fortunately you weren't a real priest, just disguised as one… because I was immediately attracted to you, and I felt so bad… But I was relieved and pleased when I discovered that you were really a special agent of the US Secret Service."

Smiling Artie kissed Lupita's forehead again. "I'm still a special agent of the Secret Service and I'm still dangerous and I'm still handsome, even if I'm older."

She nodded and almost rolled her eyes. "And so modest."

Artemus chuckled at that and then gently cupping her face he said, "And despite your gun aimed at me after your men captured me, I couldn't take my eyes off your wonderful face." Then he leaned in, tilted his head which stopped a few inches from Lupita's lips. "I'm going to do better…" Then their lips touched. It was just lips on lips again, gentle and sweet, tender and warm, then he licked at Lupita's bottom lip, waiting for her lips to part before teasing his tongue inside, demanding access to her mouth, demanding control of the kiss.

Lupita smiled against Artemus's lips, pulled back and let her hands wander up into the man's dark (but graying at his temples), not-curled-anymore and soft hair. "Are you getting bold Artemus?"

He frowned, puzzled. "I thought you wanted something less… chaste?" She winked at him and he knew she was teasing him again.

Smiling, he trailed the backs of his fingers down her cheeks, tracing her features to her lips. "You know, I have never kissed a General before." He breathed and slipped one hand behind Lupita's neck, rubbing in little circles at her nape seductively. "Maybe I could get court-martialed for kissing a superior officer… You're a General after all and I'm a Major. You outrank me." He wrapped an arm around his date and pulled her into a tight embrace. "And I could be executed by a firing squad…and I would gladly accept that after another kiss…" He leaned down for a new kiss, and Lupita opened her mouth slightly, going pliant in Artie's arms, closing her eyes, inviting Artemus's tongue inside, letting him have control of the kiss.

This one deeper and more languid.

There was nothing light or chaste about that kiss anymore. Mouths opened, tongues twisting together, moans escaping.

But Lupita's fiery, passionate and commanding nature took over and she took control of the kiss, nipping and sucking at Artemus's lips, and his tongue and Artie moaned into her mouth.

She stood up on her tiptoes fingers twisted in his hair, holding him close as Artemus's hands held her tight around her waist.

They kissed for several minutes, the kisses growing passionate losing themselves in the moment. Then the two reluctantly broke their lips apart. They were panting, out of breath, requiring oxygen, gasping, their noses still touching.

Lupita smiled, keeping Artie held in her arms, their lips inches apart. "Much, much better," she commented then she licked her rosy lips." Pulling away from him, she added, "I could have you arrested and restrained by guards… " And saw Artie smile broadly.

He let out a short laugh, the age lines around his eyes crinkling with amusement. "And you're an expert in that matter. You told your fake peones how to tie me up like a Thanksgiving turkey."

She nodded. "And I gagged you myself. " She paused and asked, "So, how is it to kiss a General?" she asked, amusement sparkling in her black eyes.

Smiling at Lupita, Artemus gently caressed her cheek, and she leaned into it. "Hmm… not bad, but I have to try again to be sure…" He took her hand in his and kissed her fingers reverently, his brown eyes so soft and full of love. "I love you so much. You are everything to me that I could ever desire, Lupita."

Lupita brushed her fingertips across Artie's cheek, tenderly, then, she touched the line of her companion's jaw, softly.

Standing on her tiptoes she nuzzled her nose into the side of his neck then rained kisses along his jawline, eliciting moans of pleasure from Artie. "I love you, Artemus," she said, eyelashes fluttering.

Heartbeat pounding behind his ribcage, Artie kissed his way down Lupita's elegant neck, and then moved to her lips, placing soft kisses there too. "I love you, Lupita. More than you can imagine…"

Smiling at each other, they stayed locked in each other's embrace, enjoying this blissful tender moment of just the two of them.

It was a moment of pure happiness.

Lupita suddenly shivered and her hand came to rest on Artie's end-of-the-day-stubbled cheek. "It's getting cold. Maybe we could go back inside, Artemus." Goosebumps appeared on her skin.

Gallantly, Artemus took his black jacket off and placed it on Lupita's shoulders covered with a triangular shawl made of black lace.

He glanced at the two empty glasses sitting on the balustrade. "Let's go back inside, Lupita. We've run out of Champagne. Besides I'd like to invite you to dance." Through the large double windows of the reception room he looked up at the guests dancing a waltz, the orchestra playing the famous 'An der schönen blauen Donau' from Johann Strauss the younger. "You'll see, I'm an excellent dancer."

Feeling warmer now, Lupita wrapped her arms around Artemus's neck, lacing her fingers right against the back of his head and tangled her fingers into his hair. She loved his hair, a lot, she thought distractedly. Thick but silky and soft. "Let's dance here… and not a waltz, but something slow, body-to-body… I want to feel you tight against me, Artemus."

Smiling, Artemus said, "Yes, my General," and he leaned down and kissed her before wrapping his hands around Lupita's waist, settling them at the small of her back, pulling her closer into a tight embrace. He tilted his head so it rested against the crown of Lupita's. "I love you," he breathed, feeling the tightness in his chest at the swell of his feelings for her.

Not following the music tempo, they started to slow dance, Artie leading them, body against body, swaying steadily from side to side whilst the musicians continued to play in the background and Lupita rested her head on her companion's broad shoulder.

He smiled, "I love this kind of dance, pressed against each other, in each other arms, barely moving and because of that I can feel you close to me… But the kind of music playing is not appropriate for this kind of dance… What I call a 'slow dance'."

Lupita chuckled softly. "It's a very appropriate name." Then she moved her head, buried her face into the crook of her _cavalier's_ neck, relishing his warmth and touch. "I like this too."

They continued to dance together for several more minutes, swirling softly, bodies pressed together, sharing smiles, kisses and caresses. The whole world around them vanished as they moved together as one, all they could feel surrounding them was love, all that mattered to her was him and all that mattered to him was her.

They stopped spinning as the last notes from the Viennese waltz played, echoing through the night, chests pressed together, panting for air and foreheads touching.

Lupita asked, "Maybe we could leave and go somewhere else Artemus…?" Her hand caressing his cheek and he tilted his head into the touch.

Smiling too, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, Artie replied leaning down, "On the banks of the Potomac for a moonlit walk? Or in a little French café near the White House perhaps?"

She kissed him, gently, sweetly, tenderly, and then she pulled back, saying, "You're teasing me, fair enough. You know what I want, Artemus, what we both want." Then with a sheepish grin she slipped her hand beneath Artemus's shirt, her hand resting against the small of Artie's back.

He nodded. "Yes, I know. There's a small hotel in Grant's Avenue, I know the people working there, they'll keep their ears, eyes and mouth closed. Jim and I brought witnesses for the prosecution there for protection while waiting to put them in front of a judge and the members of the jury."

She chuckled, "And women, many women, I suppose."

He nodded. "Yes, and it was a long time ago, when we were younger. Ancient history." He took her hand in his, and kissed it. "It's not far, about ten minutes away from here."

Lupita grinned, "Excellent!" she said, stopping and moving her hands to cup his stubbly cheeks. "I love you, Artemus," she murmured, pressing her lips against Artie's again.

Artie tightened his arms around Lupita and said, "I love you Lupita, yes, I love you. More than I've loved anyone."

Lupita raised up on her toes to kiss Artie's lips, then his chin and throat. "I love you so much _querido mio_ …" She said, parting from her companion.

Artie smiled broadly. "Te amo mi amor…"

They were about to head toward the terrace, situated behind the embassy, when two armed men suddenly came out from a group of bushes and pointed their guns at them.

Artie moved in front of Lupita, protecting her with his body, regretting not having at least a Derringer in his pocket.

He tightened his fists, his body stiffening, readying himself to defend Lupita. "Who are you and what do you want?" he asked them, glaring at them full-force, his posture menacing.

Lupita moved to his side, not impressed, facing the intruders. "You're inside the Mexican Embassy. You have no right to be here," she said before calling, "Guards! Guards!"

Suddenly there was a series of short noisy laughs and Artie froze as he recognized them. "You! That can't be…" he said in disbelief as he watched his new arch Nemesis (and Jim's) move between his two henchmen and head toward Lupita and him. "You escaped!"

Michelito Loveless smiled mockingly, "Your power of observation is astounding Mr. Gordon. Yes I escaped so recently that the news didn't reach the Secret Service, yet." He frowned angrily, his eyes flashing. "Of course the first thing I had in mind was to pay a visit to the men who put me behind bars. It wasn't difficult to find you Mr. Gordon; all the Washington newspapers are writing articles about Artemus Gordon, special agent of the US Secret Service, dating El General Lupita Quesada, Director of the Mexican Secret Service." He shook his head looking sorry. "The guards won't come, General, they're dead. I'm sorry to tell you that Mr. Gordon, and you General, that your love story is going to end – rather abruptly." He raised his hand. "Gentlemen, aim at these two lovebirds, and fire!"

Lupita and Artemus took a step back, holding hands ready to face death together, unafraid. They were both hit, not with bullets but with tranquilizer darts.

Grunting, Artemus pulled the dart out of his chest, but it was too late. Spots danced before his eyes and he struggled to stay conscious.

Loveless Jr. chuckled. "I need a bait to lure Mr. West into a trap, and one Artemus Gordon alive is better bait than a dead one."

He laughed as he watched Lupita's eyes fluttering shut and her entire body fall limp. She collapsed at the foot of the stairs.

Loveless then glanced at Artemus who had just crashed to his knees, to the ground.

Raising his eyes, Artemus shot a black look at 'Loveless Jr.' even as he felt the edges of unconsciousness closing in on him.

He ended sprawled face down on the grass.

Michelito Loveless grinned. "Benton, grab Mr. Gordon and carry him to the _Silver II_. Daniels you take Miss Quesada and carry her to the _Silver I_. It's always good to have leverage when dealing with Messrs. West and Gordon."

Tbc.


	2. Act One

**THE NIGHT OF JULY 14th, 1960**

 **By Andamogirl**

WWW

 **ACT ONE**

 _Later in the Wanderer_

Feeling good and relaxed, after a dinner in the best restaurant in the Capital, and some dancing with one of the most beautiful women in Washington D.C. – an old friend - (dining and dancing only – not flirting even, as he was married and faithful to his wife Juanita, mother of his two children), James West climbed the metallic stairs leading to the rear platform of the Wanderer.

He was smiling broadly. The parlor car was still plunged into darkness – telling him that Artemus hadn't come back home yet. He was dating Lupita tonight and the two lovebirds were probably flirting at the Mexican Embassy, or had already shifted to a more 'physical approach', in a hotel room.

He suddenly stopped and ended his musing at the same time when he noticed, at his feet, a small packet wrapped in brown paper made visible by the taillights of the train. He picked it up with his brow creased with suspicion. It could be a bomb. He had received booby-trapped packages before, he thought.

He entered the parlor car, took a knife from the drawer of the work table and began to gently cut the paper with caution and a bit of apprehension.

Beneath the paper he found a wooden box and placed his ear against the lid to see if there was some kind of timer inside.

But he didn't hear anything.

Jim opened the box, slowly, very slowly – hoping there was no trigger mechanism but there was nothing of that kind.

He frowned, puzzled as he pulled out a handkerchief from the flat box. "What?"

Immediately after the secret agent's blood ran cold in his body when he saw the initials AG embroidered in a corner with gold thread. "Artie!" he said, dread gripping his heart. 'Someone has kidnapped Artemus,' he immediately realized as he noticed a folded piece of paper lying in the bottom of the box; no doubt it was a message from the kidnappers.

He hurried to unfold it and read what was written, out loud, "Dear Mr. West, your partner and best friend is my special guest. Mr. Gordon is in perfect health – for now. If you want to see him again, in one piece and still alive, meet me at midnight at the Grant Street pier. Come alone, unarmed and with no gadgets hidden on you, of course. Yours truly, Michelito Loveless."

His eyes darkened and his jaw tightened with anger. "He has escaped from prison and he has Artie", he said, crumpling the piece of paper.

Loveless had Artie, but as he didn't say anything about Lupita in his message, he probably hadn't kidnapped her too. Unless he was keeping that information to himself for a specific purpose that was unknown to him at the moment.

He dropped it on the work table and opened the fake row of books hiding the telegraph key. There was no time to lose.

He sent a telegram to Robert T. Malone, the Director of the Secret Service: Loveless Jr. escaped from prison – stop – kidnapped Artemus – stop – going to find him and free him – stop - will keep you updated as soon as I can – stop, James West.

WWW

 _Later, midnight, Grant Street pier_

Four silhouettes, weakly lit by a lone streetlamp, were standing at the end of the pier when James West dismounted from his horse.

He could see a big fishing boat called ' _Silver II_ ' berthed alongside the dock behind Loveless's henchmen. Another boat was there too, berthed at the dock a little farther away, the _Silver I_. People were on board, on the bow and on the stern, ready to cast off. He tied the reins of his black stallion to a post then headed toward Loveless's minions waiting for him.

Once Jim had reached the goons, guns in their hands, they went through his pockets, finding nothing. "He's clear," one of them said to the others.

The tallest of the men, a hulky red-head pointed at the gangway leading to the _Silver II._ "The boss is inside; he's waiting for you West, move!"

With a gun pressed against his back Jim complied and entered the rear cabin shortly after. Michelito Loveless was there, sitting in an armchair and smoking a cigar. He was dressed in dark sailor's clothes, gray linen pants, navy blue sweater and black jacket - 'surely to flee Washington incognito on that fishing boat!' Jim mused. Then he noticed a man tied up and gagged, lying on a bunk behind the plump, blond man. He recognized him immediately. "Artie!"

In a flash two henchmen moved on each side of Loveless pointing their guns at the special agent of the Secret Service.

Michelito Loveless gestured at the still drugged agent. "Mr. Gordon is alright Mr. West. I didn't touch a single hair of his head. He's sleeping soundly. The effects of the sedative running through his blood should wear off in a couple of hours. But of course you can check for yourself." And he watched Jim move toward his partner.

Sitting on the edge of the bunk, Jim took Artie's pulse, checked his breathing which was deep and even, and finally touched his brow to detect any fever.

Loveless Jr. smiled, "Are you satisfied, Mr. West?" He paused. "It's time to cast off!" he said to the sailor standing beside the door, on the deck. Then, turning his head, he saw Jim remove the gag, gently. "I told you, Mr. Gordon is fine."

His arms crossed on his chest, looking straight at Artie and then his Nemesis, he asked, "What do you want Loveless? Revenge?"

The short man gave Jim a dumb look. "Of course I want revenge. I spent a whole month in a cell because of Mr. Gordon and you!" He frowned, upset. "But I wasn't able to find the young man who is the spitting image of his father, I mean Andamo Gordon. It's like he never existed, but I will find him, eventually, and I will get rid of him too."

Jim hid a smile. 'Andamo is back in his own time and he's safe. You won't find him,' he mused. "Oh, I forgot to ask, where's Voltaire? Still in prison?"

Loveless Jr. nodded. "I couldn't take him with me. But I will free him soon. You'll have the pleasure of meeting him again."

Jim asked, "What about Lupita Quesada? What did you do to her?"

Loveless smiled. "Ah! The lovely General. I did nothing to her. I don't care about her." He lied. "She's probably still sleeping, like Mr. Gordon – in a bed at the Mexican Embassy."

Looking down at his sleeping partner again, Jim asked, "So, what happens now?"

Loveless let out a cloud of smoke. "What about a nice cruise on the Potomac? I have a house alongside Chesapeake Bay. We should be there in three days if the wind allows it." He looked at the goon on his right side and ordered him, "Escort Mr. West to the cargo hold, Benton. Then you will take Mr. Gordon there too. Oh and secure them with chains and shackles. I don't want them to escape. I prepared something exceptional for them."

WWW

 _Later in the cargo hold of the Silver II_

When Artemus awoke, it was to a pounding headache and he groaned with pain before slowly opening his eyes.

Everything was hazy, and he blinked drowsily, his gaze still out of focus from drug induced sleep, then it cleared and the world around him eventually swam into focus.

He noticed that his ankles were restrained in shackles, said shackles linked to a short chain attached to a large steel ring fixed to the floor. He glanced around him, the room he was in was poorly lit, and piled with wooden crates and boxes of different sizes and the only light was coming from the lamp attached to the ceiling, slowly swaying.

The ambient air temperature was cold and he shivered.

He frowned, puzzled, as he could hear water – the smacking of waves to be precise – hit the walls – no, hit the hull, he realized. He was on a boat! 'A boat?'

He jumped as he felt a hand land on his shoulder and turned his head to his right. "Jim!" he exclaimed with surprise.

Facing his best friend Jim smiled. "Hi Artie!"

His brow furrowed Artie noticed that his partner was equally restrained. "Hi Jim. I'm always happy to see you, you know that, but not this time. You see I was counting on you to rescue me, and it's not going to happen now. What happened to you?"

Moving closer to Artemus Jim responded, "Junior wanted to see me, I came, and he captured me. It's that simple. Otherwise he could have tortured you and then killed you. Malone knows that I was going to find you. Nothing more. I didn't want him to send the cavalry as it would have ended in chaos. And Loveless Jr. would still have killed you. We'll get out of this predicament together."

Glancing around him, Artemus sighed. "Hmm. But it's not going to be easy. We're on board a boat and pretty well shackled."

Jim nodded. "We've been in worse situations – and we're still here."

Less optimistic, Artie said, "It's not difficult to imagine what's ahead for us, Jim. Hours of torture then a slow and very painful death. Unless you have something hidden on you… like an explosive pen to get rid of those shackles for example."

Shivers running through him, Jim shook his head. "No, sorry, no gadgets. I didn't bring any. It was Loveless's demand. What happened at the Mexican Embassy?"

Sighing, Artie replied. "Lupita and I were in the garden drinking Champagne when Junior and two of his goons surprised us. They used tranquilizer darts to neutralize us. Oh, my poor dear Lupita, she's probably dead worried about me…"

Nodding, Jim said, "Loveless told me he didn't do anything to her. He's not interested in her. He just wants to kill us. And she's probably doing whatever she can to find us. Her agents and ours are probably working together as we speak."

Artie nodded in his turn. "Yes, but they won't think about checking the fishing boats leaving Washington. It's a perfect way to get away undetected. It's very clever." He pulled hard on the chains attached to a ring deeply embedded in a solid beam. "We're stuck here."

The hatch suddenly opened and one of Loveless Jr.'s men came down the ladder. He was holding two thin blankets which he threw to the floor beside the prisoners. "Make yourselves comfortable," he said. There's no wind tonight. So we'll reach our destination in four days, not before. Have a good night, grandpas," Then, smirking, he left the cargo hold.

Feeling hurt, Artie frowned. "Grandpa? Do I look that old?" Then he grabbed a blanket with clumsy and stiff fingers and pulled it around his shaking shoulders.

Copying Artie Jim searched for something diplomatic to say in order not to hurt his best friend's feelings, Jim shook his head. "No. You look older than he and older than me, but not old."

Eyes narrowing, Artemus said, "He said grandpas, with an S, plural. You look old too, Jim. Especially with that ugly salt and pepper moustache."

Tracing his moustache with a proud finger Jim said, "I love it." He frowned, giving Artie a black look. "How is it ugly? Since when? You never told me that before."

Smirking Artie said, "Since the first time I saw you with it. And I'm not the only one to think it's ugly and it makes you look old." Suddenly he made a face. "I never told you that even though you told me that my hair looked funny." He ran a hand through his dark, abundant hair. "My hair is just perfect."

Jim snorted, scoffing. "Perfect? Oh, come on! It's all flat and lifeless. I preferred your hair shorter and curled – you looked younger then." He frowned realizing that he had made him, in fact, a compliment. He attacked again: "You're probably using something to dye your hair, because you should have a bunch of white hair now… You're 15 year older than me." He regarded his partner with an amused look. "You are what French people call a 'vieux beau', Artie. A man who, despite his advanced age, always tries to seduce women. Dyed hair!"

Crossing his arms on his hairy chest, Artie glared at his partner and replied, "Ha! Ha! Ha! Says the man who spends two hours taking care of a patch of hairs on top of his upper lip."

Narrowing his eyes, Jim said, "You have gained weight. Fortunately your Cheyenne horse is strong. He used to pull a tepee before being offered to you, right? There's little change." And he crossed his arms on his thickly muscled chest too.

Smiling Artie was the first to raise his hand in a peace gesture. "Okay, we're even. Ah! It feels good to banter with each other. We used to make fun of each other in the past… "

Smirking again Jim said, "When I was younger and you didn't look like a 'granpa', yes." He chuckled and then added, "Seriously, you should do something with your hair, Artie."

Chuckling, amused, Artemus replied, "And you should have that ugly moustache." Then his mobile face suddenly showed sadness and he said, "You know, we stopped our banter after President Grant's death… as our life was turned upside down and sorrow invaded our hearts. It was the end of an era…" He stared at the opposite hull for long minutes, eyes glazing over, losing focus, memories, good and bad flooding his mind. Then he continued, looking at Jim again, "And our 'joie de vivre' vanished with him. I can't believe he died five years ago ... for me it was like it was yesterday. I miss him a lot. I loved him like he was my own father."

Jim nodded. "I know, and miss him too, a lot." He paused and added, "Let's re-start our usual banter, we loved that Grant loved to hear us do that."

Shivering again, Artie said, "We already have, Jim. Brrrr! It's cold in here," as the chill in the air sank into his bones through the not too clean blankets he kept against his cold frame.

Shivering too, Jim nodded. "The cargo hold is located under the waterline Artie and the Potomac is very cold." He said and then yawned. "Let's get some sleep. Worrying serves nothing. We'll see soon enough what Junior has prepared for us."

His eyelids beginning to droop, Artie nodded. "Good idea, goodnight J'm," He closed his eyes and was fast asleep.

Jim's eyes drifted shut and soon he was snoring.

WWW

 _The next morning_

Jim was the first to open his eyes. He blinked twice remembering where he was and pulled himself into a sitting position. During the night he had slid onto his side.

He looked at his partner chained beside him and smiled. Artie had curled in on himself into a ball and had rolled himself up in his blanket, disappearing, or almost, beneath it. He shook his partner's shoulder and said, "Artie! Time to wake up buddy."

In response the older man groaned and said, "We are prisoners with nothing to do, so let me sleep." His stomach grumbled aloud and he became restless. "I'm hungry and I have to satisfy nature's call…" he sighed and emerged from the blanket. "Hiya Jim. Did you sleep well?"

Smiling, Jim nodded. "Yes, thank you. I can sleep like a rock anywhere under any circumstances. What about you buddy, did you sleep well?"

Shaking his head Artemus yawned. "No, I didn't. I was too cold. I dreamt about Lupita and me. We were both in Mexico, in her hacienda. We were watching our son ride a pony in the corral. He was a little sacred but was enjoying the ride too… then I dreamt about Andamo riding a pinto. He had fun..." He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I miss him a lot Jim."

Jim nodded. "I miss him too Artie. But he's safe in his own time, out of reach of Loveless Jr.'s clutches. Ah! I can hear breakfast coming!"

The hatch opened and two burly men came down the ladder leading to the wedge. The first one held two plates of oatmeal and the second one two cups of steaming coffee. They placed them on the floor. "Breakfast! Who needs to pee?"

Jim and Artie both raised a hand.

WWW

 _Later_

Jim and Artie screwed up their eyes as they emerged from the dark cargo hold to step on the deck lit by the harsh daylight.

Their vision adjusting, they exchanged a long look, thinking the same thing at the same time. The Potomac River bank was about two miles away, they mused, and they weren't restrained, no ropes, no shackles and chains, nothing.

Fog banks floated here and there above the dark water and could hide them, facilitating their escape. But first they had to get rid of the two armed men framing them.

Leaning toward Jim Artemus whispered, "You take the one on your right, and I the one of my left." He smiled and added, "See you later on the river bank Jim. At three. One… two… three!"

A well targeted punch sent Loveless's henchmen to the floor and the two agents jumped over the rail. They hit the water a couple of seconds later and went under. It was so cold that their chests seized up and they could not breathe. It was burning like acid.

They surged up out of the water, gasping, sucking in air, and once the initial freeze-shock was passed, both started to swim as fast as possible heading to the Potomac River bank, trying to stay together, to put some distance between them and the boat.

But they moved away from each other as they were enveloped in a bank of fog. They didn't see the boat change direction but they could hear voices saying: "We have to find them!", "they can't be very far", "They can't swim fast, they're old and decrepit!"

Both Artemus and Jim felt insulted by that.

The fog disguising Artie and Jim gradually dissipated and they could spot each other swimming in the right direction.

But the men of the _Silver II_ located them too.

Artemus did his best to keep himself at his partner's level but cold and fatigue slowed him down. He pivoted to see where the sailing boat was and gasped as he noticed that it was right behind him.

Two sailors threw a large, heavy fishing net in the air and it landed on Artie, trapping him inside and pulling him under the water.

Artemus sucked in lungful's of water and resurfaced, spluttering, kicking his legs wildly, his wet clothes hampering his movements, trying to get rid of the net to escape an inevitable death by drowning. "No, no, no…" he let out.

Terrorized he completely forgot that he wouldn't die that way and not in the next few minutes, but very old and in his bed.

Sheer panic had taken over.

He swallowed water again when an undertow caught him and pulled him under, under the boat. He resurfaced again utterly panicked, arms flying every which way, coughing, gagging and wheezing – still prisoner of the fishing net.

He couldn't swim, couldn't breathe, couldn't move.

Being a better swimmer that Artie, Jim had almost reached the bank when he looked behind him to see if his best friend had followed and gasped watching the tableau, fear gripping his heart.

He didn't hesitate one split second.

He had to save Artie.

He swam at top speed toward his best friend kicking wildly, with the current, to catch up with Artemus who had resurfaced entangled in the fishing net weighing him down. He was struggling to stay above water, desperately calling," Jim! Jim!" But once again, he went down in the river.

Suddenly a floating band of fog hid Artie and Jim lost visual, and his dread of losing his quasi-brother increased exponentially.

He couldn't see Artemus but could hear him suck in a greedy amount of air, his chest heaving and coughing. He had resurfaced, Jim thought with a smile on his blue-cold lips.

He was at arm's reach from Artie when the older man paralyzed by cold, not feeling his limbs, hypothermia setting in, and feeling exhausted, sank like a stone under the water. "No!" Jim cried out.

He plunged and reached out blindly in the muddy water … swimming in circles, battling with the current pushing him to the side, and with oppressing darkness, and after one minute, he touched something solid, sinking, felt skin, touched a hand, Artie's hand.

He wrapped one arm around his partner's chest and pulled him up to the surface. Then he maneuvered himself behind Artie and slung his left arm over his chest, keeping Artemus's head and shoulders above water. Then he began moving them both toward the boat where two sailors hoisted them on board.

Once Artemus was freed from the fishing net he was tangled in, Jim sank to his knees beside him, taking his pulse.

He found one, erratic but strong.

Hearing a moan coming from Artie Jim gently slapped the older man's pale face. "Artie, wake up." And Artemus's eyes flew open, clouded with pain and exhaustion and his whole body convulsed.

He jerked and coughed violently, sputtering water.

In a flash Jim turned his partner on his side and supported Artie as water rushed out of his mouth, his lips tinged with blue. "That's it buddy, that's it, I've got you," he added, as his best friend spat more water on the deck – followed by the contents of his stomach too.

Exhaling with deep relief, Jim collapsed on the deck, burying his face in his trembling hands, his teeth clattering together.

They both lay there, panting, soaked right through, violent waves of shivers making their freezing bodies convulse, trying to regain control of them, but failing.

Michelito Loveless looked down at the two soaked, gasping and shivering special agents, brow creased and eyes flashing. He was furious. "That was stupid! That was very, very stupid! You could have both died drowned – and I need to keep you alive to be able to kill you myself, later."

Breathing heavily Jim looked up at the short man. "We had to try to escape. It's is the first duty of a prisoner… and go to hell Loveless!" He said between gasps.

Hurting all over, Artemus opened his eyes sluggishly and panted, unable to speak for long moments. He only managed unintelligible grunts. His lungs were burning. "It seemed to be a good… idea", he finally croaked, staring at Loveless Jr. with unfocused eyes, his throat burning too. Black dots filled his vision then he felt himself drift into darkness.

Tbc.


	3. Act Two

**THE NIGHT OF JULY 14th, 1960**

 **By Andamogirl**

WWW

 **ACT TWO**

 _Later inside the cargo hold of the Silver II_

It was half-an hour later that Artemus opened his eyes.

He lifted his chin which was resting against his bare chest and sneezed twice. He noticed that he was huddled in a corner of the cargo hold, still dimly lit by a lone lamp, swinging in time with the pitch of the boat. He was sagged up against the cold and wet hull.

He was restrained again with shackles. But this time he was naked except for his still Potomac-River-water-soaked underwear.

He spotted Jim, sitting cross-legged beside him, his face tensed. He too was in his underwear, his damp hair flat, plastered to his scalp. He said, "I'm okay. But I'm sure I'm going to have a bad cold." Then he sniffled and shivered. He felt like his whole body was ice. "Oh boy! That water was freezing!" He couldn't keep his teeth from chattering. "W-where are t-the t-towels and the b-blank-kets?" he stammered.

Jim pulled the older man into a sitting position. Then he maneuvered his best friend so his back was resting against his chest and wrapped his arms around Artie's torso to share his body heat with him. He gasped as his best friend's upper body felt like a block of ice against his chest. "They're gone. I'm sorry, buddy. Junior took our blankets, to punish us, and no towels either of course," he explained feeling Artie's icy skin against his and he shuddered even more.

His teeth still clacking, Artemus managed to say, "Oh g-great! T-tell me again why t-two old s-sagging retirees both agreed t-to w-work for the s-Secret Service again – if we p-put aside the .more t-than generous p-pay, the c-comfort of having our own t-train, and b-being together again… for w-what? The thrill of action? And b-because retirement was b-boring?"

Jim smiled too and then he replied, "We ended our retirement for that, exactly, for all that, and because of that, and because the President wanted the best special agents at his side – and we are the best, Artie. The best! And he knows that. He knows those young agents of the Secret Service are half the men we are."

Artie leaned his head on Jim's shoulder as his best friend started rubbing his numbed arms up and down in gentle but vigorous strokes to warm him up. He smiled. "T-thanks J'm."

Feeling almost warm after such a small effort, Jim smiled, "You're welcome." And smiled when Artie relaxed against him.

Hugging his close-to-be a brother from behind, Jim stayed like this with Artemus in his arms for a while in companionable silence.

No longer feeling like a piece of ice, but still chilled, Artie parted from his best friend and turned around to face him. He immediately noticed that his waterlogged clothes along with Jim's were hanging on a rope stretched across the room, dripping water to the floor. Their boots were lying on the soaked floor a little farther away, their socks, piled on top.

Jim followed Artie's gaze and explained, "Two of Loveless's henchmen stripped us of our freezing and soaked clothes and boots and put them there to dry – Loveless didn't order that to spare us from catching a cold, but to punish us. We're going to stay like this, half-naked, without any towel to dry us and without any blanket to warm us until he decides otherwise."

Frowning, Artie shook his head. "That's torture!" he exclaimed and that was precisely why Loveless did that to them, he thought. He wiggled his numb fingers, the movement slow and sluggish, then pressed his hands against his armpits to keep them warm. Then he sighed. "You're right about those young agents… we're far better than them, but they have something we don't have anymore, Jim, youth and stamina."

Falsely hurt Jim knitted his eyebrows. "Speak for yourself Artie. You're 60, I'm 45. I'm not a young man anymore, I am a middle-aged man, yes, but I still have plenty of stamina!"

Smiling Artie replied, "Said the man who didn't knock that horrible man, who didn't love my exceptional performance, more than twelve feet."

Smiling too, Jim added, "Exceptional? It was so bad that he fired you, Artie."

Shaking his head Artemus sighed, defeated. "I know, I know. I have to admit that I wasn't in top shape that night, my Shakespearian readings were a bit muddled, but as a quick change artiste, I made a hit! Everyone loved that!" Then he smiled proudly.

Eyes twinkling, his grin a tease, Jim said, "F-i-r-e-d! Fired!"

The older man nodded, deflated. "I was bad, yes, you're right. I am a very good actor, you know that. But that night, I was bored out of my mind and thus I was bad. My interest in playing in that troupe was decreasing every day. After that representation I was ready to quit and leave the troupe with no plans for the future… and then you appeared from nowhere and the timing couldn't have been more perfect!" He sighed and rubbed his face. "Okay, I'm old and I don't have the same stamina I had… but, fortunately for you, and me, we still have all our mental capacity." He caught Jim raising a questioning eyebrow. "Old doesn't mean senile, ya know!" He added, on the defensive. He shifted his over-fatigued-and-cold-numbed-body and leaned against the bulkhead, his back and shoulders still shaking. He lifted his hands, his wrists prisoners of shackles and chains and brought his arms against his bare chest. Then he turned toward his partner and frowned in concern. "I love Junior's hospitality. He inherited it from his late father." He glanced at Jim who looked tired and was shivering violently. "Are you okay, Jim?"

Copying Artemus, Jim said. "Yes, I'm fine. I'm just cold. I'm not the one who almost drowned in the Potomac River, Artie." Then he started rubbing his hands furiously up and down the length of his arms. "Brrr!"

Artemus nodded. "But I wouldn't have drowned." His shoulders hunched, he placed a hand on the younger man's arm and pressed warmly. "Thank you very much for your help, Jim, but you and I know that I won't die before twenty years from now, in my bed, in my sleep, from a heart attack."

Smiling, Jim patted the older man's knee in response. "What are best friends for, huh? Besides it was my turn to save you this week, Artie. You saved me in San Francisco last week, in that tavern."

Rubbing his aching temples Artemus nodded. "That's right. Hiding a gun in a peg leg was a brilliant idea." Looking around him he spotted a bucket sitting in an angle of the cargo hold. "I bet Junior is not going to let us go on the deck again to pee in the river." He sniffled again. "Time is going to seem long to us, locked in here with nothing to do. Perhaps I could ask for a deck of cards."

Immediately Jim gave Artie a sour look. "I'm not playing with you – ever again. You probably were a professional gambler in a former life. I lose each time I play with you – it's no fun." He crossed his chained wrist to his chest. "What about having a nice little chat to pass the time, Artie, hm?... Tell me about Lupita and you. You're pretty discreet on the subject of your relationship. Of course I read the articles in the newspapers but they do not give many details. I want more. In fact, I want to know everything."

His face closing, Artie ran a hand through his hair plastered to his forehead in curly locks and then shook his head. "That's something private, Jim." That meant 'no.'

Pouting, Jim nudged Artie's arm. "Aw! Come on Artie! You're like a brother to me; we've shared everything for almost 20 years. Don't be shy. Come on, tell me everything. Let's start with the most important question: when and where are you going to propose to her?" he waved his finger. "And don't say 'never because we are going to die', because you know that it won't happen, at least not in the near future."

Artemus nodded. "I know, and it's comforting me somehow. I still have 20 years to live and I want to enjoy every minute of them… Alright. I intend to propose to her…" He suddenly sneezed hard against his shoulder and then started sniffing hard.

There was a metallic noise and the hatch opened.

Michelito Loveless followed by one of his burly men, came down the ladder. "I'm not interrupting something important I hope?" the short man asked.

His brow furrowing, upset, Jim shot a black look at Loveless. "As a matter of fact, yes, you are. What do you want Junior?"

Loveless hid a fake yawn behind his hand and said "I'm bored and I have decided to have some fun to pass the time. You tried to escape, so you are going to be punished for that."

Looking indifferent, Artemus nodded and added, "Jim is right. You seriously lack imagination, Shorty. What have you in mind? You're going to whip us both tied up to the ship's mast?"

Jim eyed Artie sideways, "Don't give him such ideas! He probably thought about something less painful, like don't let us have any dessert."

They both smiled broadly and then chuckled.

Michelito Loveless lost his patience. "Enough! Enough!" he said, tightening his fists, tight-lipped. "After what I have prepared for you, you won't laugh again for a long time."

Artie's throat tightened.

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 _Later_

Once on the deck, Jim and Artemus saw that the fishing boat was under full sails and was moving fast, thanks to a powerful wind.

They were separated: a goon pushed Artie to the starboard rail and another one pushed Jim to the port rail. Once that was done, they had their hands tied solidly to a long rope.

Michelito Loveless standing on the deck between James West and Artemus Gordon said, "It's a pity there are no sharks in the Potomac, because you would have made tasty bait. As you both love water, this is your punishment gentlemen. As you can see, your hands are tied with a rope which is attached to the rail." He raised his hand casting a glance at the _Silver I_ that was tailing them a few miles back. Then he looked again at his prisoners and added, "Do you know what's awaiting you?" The two agents shook their heads their foreheads wrinkling. "No? A demonstration is better than words, then." He paused enjoying Jim and Artie's tensed looks and posture and then ordered, "Kirby, push Mr. Gordon overboard."

Surprised Artie opened his eyes wide at the order that sent a chill down his spine. He recoiled as panic surged up in his throat, images of his almost drowning came back to his mind with full force. "What? No!" but he bumped into a sailor who grabbed him.

Kirby complied.

A few seconds later Artie hit the so frigid water with a big splash and let out a half shriek, half gasp before dunking under the surface. He found himself being dragged in the river Potomac on the end of the rope, behind the boat, icy and murky water rushing into his nose, his ears, his mouth and his eyes. He started swimming awkwardly, spluttering, doing his best to keep his head above the water, the cold sinking into him fast.

Michelito Loveless chuckled. "It's easy for the moment, because the boat moves fast; and you don't have to swim, just keep your head out of water, but when the boat slows down, things will be more tricky, because swimming with just your legs is not easy, and very painful after a moment. You will swallow a lot of water, get very cold and have a lot of pain, and I love it!" He cackled, rubbing his hands in glee, earning a glare from Jim which he ignored, then he nodded to the goon standing beside the US Secret Service agent, and James West hit the so very cold water shortly after.

One hour later the boat slowed down as the wind died.

The two men struggled to swim with just their legs, struggled to keep their heads out of the freezing water, cold sinking deeper and deeper into their bones as they fought against hypothermia-numbness.

They fought hard, they resisted. They didn't give Loveless what he wanted: weakness and fear. Together they remained strong, encouraging each other to hold on.

Loveless Jr. sat on a chair on the deck and enjoyed the show until he realized that his prisoners were showing signs of fatigue, their movements being lethargic, the two men going underwater more often.

As he didn't want to kill them - but enjoy their struggle and pain - he ordered his men to bring the two agents back on board.

Once back in the cargo hold, Jim and Artie both rolled in a ball, gasping for breath, coughing water, muscles aching, lungs twisting, shudders ripping through their exhausted and freezing bodies, far too drained to say anything.

Soon they were both unconscious.

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 _Much later_

The next morning Artemus, pale as a ghost, had developed a bad cold and he was feverish. He was shivering continuously, uncontrollably, his nose running, a headache hammering his skull.

Frowning in concern, Jim told Loveless that Artie had to stay in the cargo hold, with a few blankets wrapped around him, but the short man refused. "If he can walk, so he can swim too," he said. Then he ordered two of his thugs to pull Artie up onto his feet.

One goon pushed Artie forward and the older man winced and groaned putting one foot in front of the other without falling over. "He can walk," he said with a smirk.

Loveless nodded. "Then he can swim."

Fighting against heavy eyelids, Artie struggled to stay up on his feet, blinking blearily. His whole body was aching, his joints were stiff and his limbs rigid and he was bordering on exhaustion.

Catching his partner's alarmed gaze, he mumbled, "M'okay J'm." He stammered. His voice was quiet and sleepy as his mind was still a bit sluggish. Then he lifted his chin defiantly, half-glaring at Loveless. "I'm not old and weak. I can hold on." With that he took a couple of steps and then stopped for a second, or his knees would have collapsed under him.

In a flash Jim was at his partner's side, holding his arm.

Shooting his Nemesis a venomous glare, he hated Loveless Jr. even more – if possible. "You're going to pay for that, Shorty! Enjoy all this while you can."

Michelito Loveless just chuckled.

Suddenly Artemus coughed and sneezed explosively into his hands crashing to his knees shaky with fatigue at the same time.

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 _The next morning_

The next morning it was pouring with rain and it was blisteringly cold. The two agents had their arms crossed over their chests covered in goosebumps trying to keep themselves warm. Their hands and feet were tinged blue with cold.

Michelito Loveless sitting down on his chair on the deck, under a protective waterproof canopy, and wrapped in a thick coat, watched the two agents exhaust themselves in trying to swim behind the boat, as it was moving slowly over the surface of the river, pushed by a soft wind.

In the afternoon a strong wind chased the big dark clouds, then dropped.

Smiling cruelly, he watched his prisoners sink under water more and more often as their strength and resistance declined, their muscles feeling more and more uncooperative.

The water of the Potomac River was freezing their already tired limbs and making it nearly impossible to swim. They surfaced yes, sputtering water too, but their faces were ghostly pale and strained by the intense effort and the pain.

Exhausted, his energy drained from him by the immeasurable efforts he had been making for two days, Artemus couldn't help but let himself sink.

Loveless Jr. ordered him to be brought back on board, before the older agent drowned. Artemus curled in on himself on the deck. His limbs felt heavy and sluggish. Tremors wracked his body, so violent they hurt. His skin was pale and his extremities even tinged blue. All he could feel was pain.

The short man leaned toward the close-to-be hypothermic man and said, "So, how was the water?" his breath fogging in the chilly air.

Eyes closed, Artemus was shivering violently and his teeth were chattering so bad he couldn't answer his Nemesis.

Loveless ordered to one of his minions, "Bring him back to the cargo hold and give him a blanket. I don't want him to die from exposure to cold."

But the short man let Jim in the icy cold water until it was dark.

Once back in the cargo hold, Jim was restrained again with the shackles and then he collapsed on the floor as he gasped in air, weak and limp, with no feeling in his prune-like and numbed extremities. Grabbing the blanket folded on the wooden floor next to his best friend, he wrapped himself in it.

He lay down beside Artie, a blanket tucked around him. The older man was dead to the world and passed out with uber-exhaustion and he pressed his fingers against his partner's forehead. Artemus was very pale, his skin was clammy and cold and his breathing was slow and shallow.

He snuggled close to his partner, releasing puffs of breath into the cold air, to share body heat with his sleeping best friend.

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Loveless kept to that routine – deliberately ignoring Artie's declining health - until the fishing boat berthed at the pier of his mansion, located on the banks of the Potomac River.

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 _Loveless's mansion, later_

 _Guest room_

Michelito Loveless looked at the two agents sprawled on the bed, both in their underwear, dead to the world, admiring his handiwork : West and Gordon had spent so long a time in the cold water of the Potomac River that their skin had withered and was marred with frostbite here and there. They had lost weight too, because he had barely given them enough food and swimming for hours had made their extra flesh vanish.

He nodded. As they were more than exhausted he was going to wait for them to feel better before doing anything else, he mused. They were in no shape to do what he had planned for them, while locked in a cell of a federal prison.

He smiled. While he was behind bars, the scientists working for him had completed the time travel machine he had imagined, and it was finally ready, he thought.

The short man's smile broadened. "But my two guinea pigs here – namely James West and Artemus Gordon - are not ready, not yet, but they will be, soon," he said before rubbing his hands in glee. He turned toward Dr. Beckett, his own physician for years, standing behind him. "I asked you to come, Henry because you're the best physician I know – and that's why I had you take care of my health for years." He pointed at his prisoners. "I want them both back in top shape as soon as possible."

Henry Beckett nodded. "Yes Michelito. But let me tell you that it's not going to be easy. That… treatment you subjected them to, for days, has utterly weakened them. It has especially impaired the health of the older man. It's a miracle he's still alive."

Loveless Jr. looked down at Artemus Gordon, gray and crumpled. Old. The other man looked like a corpse already. "Don't worry; Mr. Gordon is stronger than he looks. He's a fighter. He'll pull through, I'm sure. I'm counting on you to do your best, Henry."

Dr. Beckett nodded. "I will."

The short man headed toward the door and left the guest room.

Once alone Henry Beckett frowned deeply, wondering how he was going to do what Loveless wanted. He was a doctor, not a miracle worker, he mused and he continued his musing: the two agents of the Secret Service were both in bad shape – the older one especially.

He sat down on the edge of the mattress, taking Gordon's hand in his, and feeling for a pulse. It was there, but barely. His breathing was so shallow that it was almost inaudible. He had dark rings under his eyes and his slack face was twisted in pain even in his deeply unconscious state.

He touched his patient's forehead. His hair was damp with sweat, and his skin was very hot against his palm. His cheeks were flushed with fever.

He muttered a curse at the heat radiating from him. the older man was burning up. He had to act rapidly – cooling measures were necessary, he thought. He had to cover the other man's body with crushed ice and wash him with cool damp cloths.

If he didn't get his fever down the agent could have seizures or even brain damage.

Beckett headed toward the door, opened it and said to the guard, "I need ice, crushed ice, lots of it and a basin of cold water and some cloths too. Hurry!" then he went back to his feverish patient.

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 _Two days later_

Eyes fluttering open, Jim woke up confused and disoriented. He wasn't shackled in the cargo hold of the fishing boat anymore but lying on a comfortable bed, in a richly decorated bedroom.

He turned his head to the left and saw bars on the windows – 'But I'm still a prisoner', he thought. He turned his head to the right and gasped in shock seeing Artemus lying on a twin bed, close enough to touch, if he extended his arm.

His partner looked like a corpse. "Artie!"

He snaked his hand out from the blanket he was wrapped in and he reached out, touching Artie's hand to verify if the other man was still alive. "Artie?"

His hand was clammy with sweat, he realized. He had a fever but was alive. He heaved a sigh of relief. 'Of course he is, he won't die until 1910', he mused. He closed his eyes shut. That simple movement had sapped his meager strength and he just lay there panting.

He waited for a couple of minutes and managed somehow to prop himself on one forearm and turned toward the older man, "Artie! Artie, wake up!" but Artemus didn't react.

Suddenly the door opened and an old man with white hair entered the room with a stethoscope around his neck. He smiled and said, "Ah! You're awake, good! Good! I'm Dr. Henry Beckett. How are you feeling this morning Mr. West?"

Looking at the other man with puffy and red-rimmed eyes, Jim replied, "I'm fine, but my friend is not. How is he Doctor?"

Henry Beckett sat down on the edge of Artemus's bed. "He still has a low grade fever, but his health has improved and it is far better than when you arrived here two days ago."

Surprised Jim blinked several times. "What? Two days ago?"

Beckett nodded. "Yes, you were both completely exhausted. You needed rest and you slept non-stop for 48 hours. Your partner Mr. Gordon, he's older than you and is less fit than you and thus he was much affected by the considerable 'efforts' to which you have been subjected. That's why he needs more rest and that's why he's still sleeping." He placed his stethoscope to Artie's chest and listened to his heartbeats. They were slow and regular and his breathing normal, he noticed. "Don't worry; he should wake up in the afternoon or in the evening, his fever down. He's going to be fine."

Relieved Jim smiled and said, "Thank you doctor."

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 _Much later_

It was sunset when Artemus slowly opened his eyes and moaned. Jim sitting on his bed, reading the local newspaper Beckett had brought him shortly before, immediately moved to the edge of the other bed and took his partner's hand in his. "Hiya Artie!"

Raising tired eyes to his best friend, Artemus noticed that Jim sported a several days salt and pepper beard and his eyes had heavy shadows under them. "You look like hell Jim," he said, his voice raspy. He yawned and looked around him.

Smiling, Jim replied, "You should see your reflection in the mirror, Artie. You look a lot worse than me." He smiled again and added, "But you're going to be okay."

The older man nodded and ran a hand over his face feeling the graze of stubble rough against his skin and then asked, "What happened? How long have we been here? Two, three days judging by your beard, right?"

Jim sighed. "Junior locked us in this bedroom two days ago Artie. We were both so exhausted that I slept non-stop for 48 hours and you a few hours more. You were very sick and Dr. Beckett, Loveless's personal physician took care of you. He saved your life."

Closing his red and puffy eyes, Artie sighed. "I'm wondering what Junior has in mind for us, probably something painful and deadly," he said.

Jim patted his partner's shoulder reassuringly. "We'll probably suffer – a lot, but we won't die Artie. Our time won't come for many years." He helped Artemus to sit down on the bed and wrinkled his nose. "You and I could use a bath, a shave, and clothes."

The door opened and two armed goons entered pointing their guns at the agents. "The boss wants to see you, move!" the tallest of the two said.

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 _Loveless Jr.'s laboratory, later_

Revolvers poking into their backs, the two Secret Service agents were escorted to a large laboratory. Their footsteps were slow and clumsy with exhaustion.

Once there Jim and Artie looked around them in great surprise.

Then they looked at each other, both thinking at the same time that they were used to seeing machines created by Miguelito Loveless throughout the years – and tested lots of them, unfortunately - but not machines of that scale.

The four walls of the room, from the floor to the ceiling, were occupied by huge, heavy and complicated devices, all linked with many wires to some kind of metallic arch placed in the middle of the laboratory, positioned on a podium.

Michelito Loveless entered the lab a few seconds later, followed by two of his armed and hulking henchmen and said, "Ah! Mr. West, Mr. Gordon, it's good to see you both conscious again… and in such a pitiful state, haggard, dirty, stinking, bearded, disheveled, solely in your underwear." He grinned visibly very pleased. "You both look more like escaped prisoners, or convicts than dashing agents of the Secret Service." He gestured to his machine, turning on the spot. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Not impressed, Jim sighed and crossed his arms over his bare chest. "Your father built machines like that all the time, so we're not impressed."

Loveless Jr. frowned in irritation. "I know that my father built machines, I even helped him a couple of times. But his machines were small and rudimentary compared to this one, you can't compare them to this wonder!" He pointed at the floor. "Now kneel!" he ordered. Smiling, he watched with pleasure the two men comply reluctantly then said, "That's better." Again, he showed the machine with a sweeping gesture of his arm. "This is my latest and most advanced machine," he said his eyes gleaming with pride. "My scientists worked hard on it for a year – to build it according to my specifications. I had designed it before I met you the first time. It's a perfection, it's a technological wonder! No one has built such a machine before!" The short man moved toward the arch settled on a podium and brushed the dark metal of the arch with admiration and reverence. "That's the principal part of my machine; it's a portal – a portal giving access to time travel."

Both Jim and Artie exchanged an incredulous look then it morphed into a worried one – with that kind of machine loveless could create chaos, no would create chaos. Changing the past would change the future and he could do a lot of damage traveling to the future too, they thought.

Furrowing his brow, both intrigued and fascinated, Artemus, switched into scientist mode and asked, "A time travel machine? How does it work?"

Loveless Jr. smiled. "I could tell you, but I'm not going to satisfy your scientific curiosity, Mr. Gordon – how very frustrating isn't it?" He chuckled seeing and enjoying Artemus's visible disappointment. "But I can tell you that I am going to use that machine to get rid of you from my life – for definite."

Licking his lips, mouth suddenly dry, Artie blanched and his eyes widened. "You intend to send Jim and me into time. Correction, you want to 'lose' Jim and me somewhere in time…"

Michelito Loveless nodded. "Yes, good deduction Mr. Gordon. But it will be just a _'hors d'oeuvre'_ – a very agreeable one, yes, before I travel myself in time, backward and ahead, to have gold, power, armies, incredible and powerful weapons… anything I want. Then I will come back to my own time and the world will be mine. My father wanted to rule the world… " He frowned angrily. "And because of you, he couldn't!" He calmed down within seconds and added, touching his chest. "But I, Michelito Loveless the first will be King, no I will be Emperor! Emperor of the world! I like that title a lot… it sounds nice to my ears."

Shaking his head Artemus said, "You are as much a megalomaniac as your father!"

Loveless smiled. "I take that as a compliment."

Then Jim deadpanned, "And like your father, you won't succeed."

Ignoring that last remark, Loveless Jr. moved toward the first wall and pulled up a series of levers and pressed dozens of colored buttons to activate the time travel machine, then he activated the other wall-covered machines – and the arch suddenly glowed with a loud whirring sound. Some kind of intricate net made with thousands of small discharges of electricity materialized inside the arch. "Voilà! It's ready," he said, his eyes shining with pleasure and awe. "Fantastic!"

Suddenly very, very worried, Artemus took a step back and started to muse. He knew he would be the first to 'go', to use the machine.

It had always been him first with Miguelito Loveless's devices – as the diminutive man wanted to see him suffer and enjoy seeing Jim suffer because he was in a great deal of pain and mortal danger – he even died, temporarily, multiple times. And Jim had brought him back. Fortunately.

The short man smiled again. "You're going to feel an intense electrical current run throughout your whole body but you won't be killed – just shocked – and it won't be pleasant."

Glaring at Loveless Artie replied, "Why am I not surprised?"

Looking down intently at Artemus, he continued, "You are going to be the first one to go, Mr. Gordon, in respect for your brilliant scientific mind, not as brilliant as mine – because there's brilliant and there's me. I'm a genius and you're not. And as I am in a good mood today, I will let you choose the date and the destination of _your one way ticket trip_." Then he looked at Jim. "But I will choose those for you, Mr. West as you were peskier with my father than you partner. What do you think about England in the middle-ages? I'm sure that a man with so many talents and who's noble, courageous and brave, etc. will make an excellent knight."

Frowning, puzzled, Artie raised his hand. "I'd like to ask you a question. How it is possible to come back? For example when you are in the past, how will you be able to come back?"

Michelito Loveless pulled out a silver bracelet from his pocket. There was a small red button on it. He showed it to the two agents and said, "I'm giving you the short version, purged of all details because I don't have time to explain the whole thing to you and because, even being brilliant, you wouldn't be able to understand such high-level physics." He smirked seeing that Artemus was hurt. He took a long breath then said, "When someone uses the time machine, it emits an electrical pulse on a special frequency through the portal, like a beacon. When the traveler needs to come back, he just has to press on the button of the bracelet he wears - that one, and it starts to emit the same electrical pulse, on the same frequency. Then the time machine activates the return sequence: it transmits order to the bracelet, to the traveler, converting him into an energy pattern. After that the machine, using a powerful electrical current attracts that energy pattern like a magnet and, once it passes the arch, the traveler is reconverted into matter."

Fascinated again, Artie said, really impressed, "That's a technological wonder indeed!"

Loveless bowed his head. "Thank you." He climbed onto the podium and opened a side box, revealing three dials, one was set to 1890, the other on the current date, day and month, and the last on the place where they actually were, the United States. "There are three buttons here", he explained. "If your turn the button on the left, you can set the year, and the one on the right, the date and if you turn this one in the middle you will set the place you want to go. You just have to select the letters to form the name." He had a wicked smile. "Get up Mr. Gordon, and come here and choose the place you want to go, the date and the year."

Artie shook his head, crossing his arms on his chest. "No."

Michelito Loveless frowned in irritation. "No? NO? No one says _no_ to me!"

The older Secret Service agent smiled. "I just did, so sue me."

The short man gave a nod to the man standing behind Artemus aiming a gun at his back. "Baldwin, I want Mr. Gordon at my side, now!"

Baldwin holstered his Colt, roughly pulled Artie up and whirled him around. After that he started to punch his face… propelling the other man toward the podium.

Far too exhausted Artie didn't fight back.

His nose and lips bleeding, he finally joined Loveless who was grinning in triumph. The short man said, "No one resists me, Mr. Gordon." He paused and suddenly snapped his fingers twice. "Oh! I was going to forget something important!" He turned around and snapped his fingers at another of his minions. "Kendall, bring my other guest here."

Jim and Artie exchanged a surprised look. Other guest?

The two henchmen came back shortly after, framing… Lupita Quesada.

She glared at Michelito Loveless then she saw Artemus, his face reddened with his own blood standing beside Loveless Jr. and Jim, still 'intact' kneeling on the floor, two men pointing their guns at them. "Artemus!" she exclaimed focusing on the man she was in love with. She wanted to rush toward Artie but the guards grabbed her firmly, immobilizing her.

Swaying on legs like jelly, fatigue coming back in full force, Artemus exclaimed in surprise, "Lupita!" then suddenly his knees buckled as he felt a wave of dizziness come over him.

In a flash Jim stood up and was at his best friend's side. He grabbed Artemus's arm to steady him before he fell over and helped him to stay upright.

Still looking at Lupita, but now very worried, Artie asked, "Lupita, are you alright?"

Lupita nodded and frowned in concern. The two men looked like ghosts. "Yes I am. Dear God Artemus, what did he do to you? And to James too?"

Furious Artie shot Loveless Jr. his best black look. "Why did you kidnap her Junior? Let her go. She has nothing to do with your vengeance against Jim and me."

Michelito Loveless smiled. "I needed leverage, just in case you both tried to escape, to force you to come back. But you didn't. Don't worry Mr. Gordon; the lovely General here was well-treated. And I'm not a monster without a heart. I wasn't going to separate you permanently without letting you say goodbye. Kiss Miss Quesada goodbye, Mr. Gordon because you won't see each other again. Ever."

Frowning Lupita asked, "What do you mean by that?"

Loveless was happy to respond, "This machine here is a time machine. I'm going to use it to send your fiancé into time, for a one way voyage."

Lupita paled, shocked. "What? No! You can't do that!"

The short man offered her his best crocodile smile and nodded. "Oh, I can and I will, believe me."

Looking at Jim, frowning in concern, Artie said, "I'm okay. It's not over Jim. Our destiny is already written. We'll come back here, to our time and we will be together again. We'll put Loveless Jr. behind bars again, for good." He shook Jim's hand warmly then hugged him before parting from his best friend. "Take care buddy. See you." Then he headed toward Lupita, trying not to crumple on the floor. He pulled her against him and, one arm wrapped around her waist, he kissed her tenderly.

Lupita slipped her right hand into the hair at Artie's neck and pulled him even closer, deepening the kiss. They eventually pulled apart. Then Artie realized he was almost naked in front of Lupita and blushed furiously. "Oh… um… ah, er…"

Lupita smiled and brushed Artie's bearded cheek tenderly, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "You know I had to see you without your clothes or almost one day or another. You're handsome. I love you Artemus, and I will love you forever," she said.

Artie pulled Lupita into his arms and she clung to him. "I love you, Lupita, and I will come back, I promise. I will find a way or Jim will." He pressed his forehead against Lupita's. "We'll be together." They kissed again, and then he began to disentangle himself. "It's a promise."

Michelito Loveless waved his hand impatiently. "You shouldn't make those promises, because you won't be able to keep them Mr. Gordon." He gestured toward the command panel. "Come here and choose the place you want to go, the date and the year."

Reluctantly Artemus joined Loveless Jr. on the podium and complied.

Curious, the short man glanced at the settings, Puerto Verde, California, July 14, 1960, and frowned, intrigued. He said, "Interesting. Puerto Verde, California, July 14, 1960. Why that place and time period?"

Hiding a smile, Jim thought, 'Good thinking Artie! You'll be safe with Andamo, while I find a solution to get us out of this trap.'

Ignoring the short man's question, Artemus took his place in front of the arch. He shot the other man a cold look and said, "I will come back and I will put you behind bars again Junior. It's a promise I make to you, and I always keep my promises."

Loveless chuckled. "You won't keep this one, believe me."

Then he looked at Jim and Lupita, mouthed 'I'll be back' and, taking a deep, shuddering breath, he stepped into the intricate net of electrical discharge.

Artemus cried out in pain as electricity arched through him, his body jerking and twitching at the shock and at the intense burn - just for a few seconds. And he suddenly vanished.

Both Jim and Lupita gasped in shock at the same time.

Loveless grinned. "One gone, one to go…" He had just said that when suddenly one of the machines covering the walls let out a long whine and exploded like 4th of July fireworks. He was horrified. "No! No! Nooo! That's impossible! What happened?" then other huge sparks gushed from the machine and even flames. "No, no, noooo!" He cried out, helplessly.

Jim seized the opportunity to punch the two men standing behind him, knocking out both of them and, in a flash he grabbed a gun and fired at the two goons framing Lupita. They both collapsed on the ground, crying out in pain each with a bullet in their shoulders.

Then he pointed the Colt at Loveless Jr. and his voice cold as ice, he said, "Now you're going to repair the machine and bring Artie back!"

Michelito Loveless was shaking his head in disbelief, ignoring Jim. "I don't understand what happened. I had everything under control… It was probably a power surge…"

Placing the mouth of his gun against the other man's forehead, Jim ordered, "Bring Artie back!"

Loveless looked up at Jim, and raised his chin defiantly. "Or what? You're going to kill me? You can't. You need me."

Her eyes dark with anger Lupita who had picked a gun too aimed at the short man and fired – the bullet grazed Loveless arm leaving a deep, bloody cut in its wake and he yelped in both surprise and pain. "Do it, or the next time I swear that I'm going to turn you into a colander, limb by limb, until you comply."

His trembling hand pressed on his bleeding wound, Loveless nodded, grimacing. "Alright, but don't hurt me again!" He whined, then opened his eyes wide in terror as he saw the Mexican woman cocking the hammer of her gun. "I will! But first I have to rebuild that machine from A to Z - so Mr. Gordon is going to be stuck in the future for a while until the second machine is ready, especially since he doesn't have the bracelet."

Jim smiled. "I'll go get him wearing that bracelet. Then we'll travel back together."

Loveless shook his head. "You don't understand, I didn't calibrate the time machine to bring back two energy patterns and didn't calibrate it either to separate the two energy patterns. Once back, you could - fuse - with Mr. Gordon in one deformed body. Your plan is impossible Mr. West!"

Jim shook his head. "You claim that you're a genius, then make it possible!" He noticed a telegraph set sitting on a table. He glanced at Lupita and said, "I need to send a message to Washington. Don't let him go. If he tries to move, shoot him in the leg!"

Lupita Quesada placed the muzzle of the .45 under Loveless Jr.'s chin. "You're going to bring Artemus back," she said coldly.

Tbc.


	4. Act Three

**THE NIGHT OF JULY 14th, 1960**

 **By Andamogirl**

WWW

 **ACT THREE**

 _On board the Fortuna II, July 14, 1960_

 _0730 AM_

Lucky was having breakfast at one of the empty tables of the fantail when he saw Lt. Rovacs of Puerto Verde police and two policemen half-supporting, half-dragging another man, head toward him.

He frowned in concern as he noticed that the 'prisoner' looked dead on his feet. He rapidly observed the man from head to foot;: he was pale, had dark circles around his eyes and his features were strained by exhaustion. His hair was disheveled and he looked as if he hadn't shaved for a week. His nose and lips had dried blood on them and he had nasty bruises on his swollen face. He had traces of dirt everywhere on his body, as well as several scrapes and he was wearing threadbare underwear only.

The Cary Grant look-alike, suddenly opened his eyes wide in stupefaction, finally realizing that the man looked like an older version of his best friend and partner Andamo.

His brow creased deeper, scrutinizing the older man's face, intrigued. Could Andamo and this man be related? He thought. "Good morning Lieutenant, welcome on board, may I know who your guest is?"

Rovacs took his place on a chair and pointed at the man. "Good morning Lucky. That's a good question. I don't know. He didn't tell me his name. A patrol found him like that; wandering through the streets about one hour ago and the guys called me, because he wanted to see Andamo and was looking for the _Fortuna_. When I first saw him, I was very surprised, like you were a few seconds ago. Make the man presentable, erase his bruises and you could swear it's Andamo, only twenty years older. I thought the two of them could be related so I brought him here." He saw Lucky frown again in disapprobation this time. "I know, I should have sent him to the hospital, but he refused to go there, he just repeated Andamo and the _Fortuna_. He's not drunk, or drugged, I think, just dazed. He was probably hit on his head and beaten before being robbed of everything – even his clothes. Poor old guy, he's still pretty groggy."

Lucky stood, took the man's arm and led him to a chair. "Hi, my name is Lucky, what's your name? What happened to you?"

Blinking slowly, Artemus Gordon took Lucky's cup of coffee with a trembling hand and swallowed what was left of the dark liquid, moaning with pleasure. "Andamo," he breathed.

Rovacs rubbed his chin pensively, "Could he be Andamo's father? I never met him."

Lucky shook his head. "Feliz? No, it's impossible. Andamo's father is still in Mexico, Rovacs. He broke his right leg two weeks ago after he fell from his horse. Andamo travelled there after his mother called, to replace him at the ranch. Andamo came back two days ago. Besides, that man is younger than Feliz, close to 60 I think." He sighed. "I'll get Andamo. Give this man anything he wants, coffee, orange juice, _croissants_ , anything. I'll be back soon."

Hearing that Artie smiled weakly, and, he immediately grabbed the pot of coffee and a croissant - famished and in need of caffeine.

WWW

 _Later_

Lucky was back five minutes later, on the fantail of the 148-foot yacht, dragging Andamo behind him. The Latino was barefoot and pajama-clad. He was groaning and yawning as he was in full bear- suddenly out-of-his-hibernation-period mode.

Rubbing his puffy eyes, Andamo whined, "Lucky, I was dreaming about that blonde with the big… I hope you have a good reason to drag me here… What is it anyway? You didn't tell me what's so urgent you had to wake me before midday."

Lucky pointed at the bum-like man sitting at the table, drinking a glass of orange juice - heavenly. "Who is this man? Do you know him?"

The younger man stopped dead in his tracks, opening his eyes wide, gaping. "Oh Dios mio!" he finally let out in total and absolute surprise. "Es imposible!"

Lucky knew something was very wrong when Andamo reverted to Spanish.

Recognizing Andamo's voice, Artemus looked up at the Latino, his face relaxing in intense relief. "Andamo, my boy," he let out in a whisper before standing up, grinning.

The two men hugged each other for long minutes, Artie crying softly against Andamo's shoulder, Andamo rubbing the older man's back soothingly.

They parted eventually and Artie wiped his tears with the back of his right hand. "I'm so relieved to have found you my boy…" he said.

Andamo patted his grandfather's shoulder. "It's so good to see you again." He frowned in worry. "What happened to you? How did you get here?" He whispered so as not to be heard by the other men. "Otepek's doing?"

Shaking his head, Artemus murmured, "No, it's more complicated…"

Seeing that Lucky and Rovacs were looking at them with intense curiosity, listening closely to each word they pronounced, Andamo said, "It's a private conversation!" then, he grabbed Artie's arm and added, "come on, let's go somewhere else."

Lucky and Rovacs watched the two men leave the fantail of the large yacht, Andamo helping his older lookalike to walk.

Rovacs nodded. "I've work to do. Keep me informed Lucky, alright?"

Lucky smiled. "Of course."

WWW

 _Later in Andamo's cabin_

Once in Andamo's cabin, Artie sank on the bed and closed his tired eyes. "It's not very pleasant being almost electrocuted, you know?" He let out a heavy sigh. "Unfortunately it's not the first time something like that has happened to me. Boy! I'm so very tired…"

Blanching, Andamo sat on the edge of the mattress, horrified. "What? You were almost electrocuted? You need to see a doctor immediately."

Re-opening his eyes Artie shook his head. "No, I just need to rest. That electric shock left me disoriented, groggy and drained, that's all." He didn't talk to Andamo about the forced swimming marathon in icy water for days, so as not to worry him further. "It will pass with a good night's sleep." He smiled weakly. "It's so good to see you again Andamo, I missed you a lot, my boy."

The younger man smiled too. "I missed you too, Artemus. Now tell me what happened? How did you get here, in the future?"

Lucky suddenly entered the cabin, the door being wide open. He had heard what Andamo had just said. He closed the door, glanced at his best friend and then looked at the older man, completely lost. "Artemus? Artemus Gordon?"

Raising a weak hand, Artie said, "Yes, that's me."

Lucky's thick eyebrows knit as he was now very puzzled, knowing now why the two men looked alike. They were from the same family, grandfather and grandson precisely.

He looked back at his partner and said, "I thought your grandfather was dead, Andamo. Then tell me how is it possible he's here now, lying – very much alive - on your bed?"

Grimacing, with great effort Artie managed to pull himself into a sitting position, and, leaning against the wooden headboard, he observed the other man. He was tall, had black eyes and dark hair, had a strong jawline and angular features, and was wearing a black tailored suit with a bow tie. "So you are Mr. Lucky, Andamo's best friend and partner…"

Lucky nodded.

Artie sighed and then added, "To answer your question, long story short, I was forced to travel in time. I chose to travel ahead to the future, because I knew someone there: my grandson. I knew I would be safe aboard the _Fortuna_ , during my stay in the future - and I'm delighted to be with Andamo."

Lucky was lost again. "You died fifty years ago Mr. Gordon, long before Andamo was born. How can you know him and know the Fortuna?"

Embarrassed Andamo lowered his eyes, then he raised them sheepishly. "You remember when I disappeared after that visit to the Archeological Museum? I told you that I was in Mexico at my parents' home. I wasn't. I didn't tell you the truth. I traveled into the past to meet my grandfather." He paused. "I 'm sorry, Lucky."

Leaving aside for now the 'time travel' story, Lucky focused on the fact that Andamo had lied to him and he felt hurt. "You've never lied to me, Andamo," he said.

The Latino nodded feeling both ashamed and contrite. "I know, and it won't happen again, I swear. But I couldn't tell you the truth. You wouldn't have believed me. It was so incredible! Like in a science-fiction movie! Do you remember that statue of the god Otepek? The god transported me to the past so I could meet my grandfather… I so wanted to know him. Then, the god brought me back." He paused again. "It's a long story."

Lucky sat down beside his best friend, putting his arm around the younger man's shoulders. "I would have believed you, compadre." He ruffled the younger man's black curled hair in brotherly affection. "I forgive you, but no more lies, Andamo, okay?" Looking at the older man now sagging against the headboard, he asked, "Did that god send you to the future Mr. Gordon?"

Blinking slowly, fighting fatigue, Artie shook his head and replied, "No, not a god, a man named Michelito Loveless did. He's a genius criminal and he has invented a time travel machine. He forced me to use it, to get rid of me, and forced my partner and best friend James West to use it too for the same reason. Now we're both stuck in a time that is not ours. At least I was able to choose my own time and place to be exiled; Jim didn't have that chance. He was sent to England, in the middle Ages. But I'm not worried, we'll get back to our own time, I don't know how, I don't know when, but we will, because I will die in my bed in 1910 and Jim 20 years later in his bed too. It is written and nothing can change that." He passed a limp hand over his bearded cheeks and added, "I could use a bath and a shave – and I need some clothes too."

Lucky nodded. "We have a nice bathroom on board with a shower and I'll get you everything you need. Andamo is going to show you the way."

Artie smiled. "Thank you Mr. Lucky – for everything – and for taking care of Andamo." He patted the younger man's arm with affection. "He's a good boy."

Lucky nodded. "Yes, he is."

WWW

 _Later_

One hour later, showered, shaved, his hair neatly combed and dressed in clean underwear and socks, a dark brown suit, a white shirt and black tie, (borrowed clothes (from the ship's mechanic), Artemus Gordon was feeling human again.

Sitting at one of the tables of the fantail, he was drinking a fourth cup of coffee while watching Andamo wolfing down a pile of pancakes dripping with maple syrup.

Lucky, sitting at the table too, was enjoying his third cigarette.

His eyes twinkling with amusement, Artie chuckled. "Andamo has inherited the famous Gordon's appetite." Then he took a sip.

Lucky grinned. "Andamo goes to bed once the restaurant is empty, the cash and checks in the safe and the account book up to date. It's two AM when he collapses on his bed. He usually emerges from sleep at midday, so he has missed breakfast and eats everything within his reach. I ask the Chef to prepare a copious breakfast for him." He began to nibble the end of a _croissant_. "When you were busy in the bathroom, Andamo told me everything about his adventure in 1890 and everything about you and your partner. Your life was an extraordinary one, Mr. Gordon."

Frowning Artie looked at Andamo, "He shouldn't have done that. If anyone hears about that, I'm going to have some serious problems."

His mouth full of pancake, Andamo managed to say, "Lucky will keep that secret, don't worry, you can trust him like you trust Jim," and he swallowed.

Lucky nodded. "Andamo's right. I will keep your story secret."

Pouring himself a fifth coffee, Artemus nodded. "If Andamo trusts you in this, then I do too. And call me Artemus, please." He took a new sip of coffee and added, "My life is extraordinary, present tense. I'm not dead yet, and it's amazing to be here, in 1960, on a yacht turned into a chic restaurant with my grandson and his best friend and partner."

Lucky nodded. "And call me Lucky, please. I know that you are probably very excited to see everything modern, but as you don't have any legal existence here and to avoid any kind of problems – like being hit by a car and ending up in a hospital - it would be best for you to stay onboard as much as possible – while waiting to go back to your time."

Pouring himself a cup of coffee Andamo shook his head. "He's not going to be a prisoner on board the _Fortuna_ , Lucky. It's cruel! I refuse. I want him to enjoy all the things I told him about when I was in the 1890's West. Everything!"

Lucky shook his head. "It's too risky. We have modern wonders on board you know like the radio, the television, and…"

Frowning, Andamo interrupted his best friend and partner, "Just for one day, please Lucky. I want to show him the city and then we'll drive to Sunset Beach to picnic and spend the afternoon there, talking. We'll be back on board by tonight."

Lucky nodded. "Okay compadre, but after that he'll stay on board." He looked at Artie and added, "It's for your own safety, you understand. I have a spare cabin for you."

Artie gulped down a glass of orange juice then he said, "You're right and I understand, and thank you for your offer, Lucky." He paused. "Do you have a job for an agent of the Secret Service – currently out of work? I'd like to make myself useful on board."

Settling his fork on his empty plate, Andamo raised his hand. "I know! I know! Artemus is a great cook. He spent two years in France before the war, I mean before the Civil War – to learn cuisine. Our Chef needs a qualified assistant and Artemus is qualified. What do you think of my idea Lucky?"

Lucky smiled loving the younger man's proposition. "That's a very good idea Andamo. Artemus? Do you want to be the assistant to my Chef?"

Pleased by the offer Artie grinned. "That's a wonderful idea, thank you. I accept. But I'm going to need to know how all your _modern_ and I'm sure marvelous cooking equipment works."

Lucky nodded. "Of course, Andamo will show you everything in the galley. You're hired Artemus, welcome to the crew of the _Fortuna_ the second. You could show us your talents tonight. As we are celebrating the 14 of July, the National Day in France, the Chef has prepared a French cuisine menu."

Andamo smiled and added, "You're not going to the beach in those clothes, or anywhere in them! I'm going to send someone to buy you some more appropriate clothes and shoes. You must look like a man of the twentieth century, not nineteenth."

Lucky nodded. "And anything you need Artemus. I'm buying."

WWW

 _Later, in Puerto Verde_

Eyes and mouth wide open, Artemus was standing at the corner of Grant Street and Washington Street, looking at the traffic.

He was dressed in a white linen vest, had a blue polo shirt with sunglasses hanging on his collar, jeans and black sport shoes.

He was thrilled, awed and terrified at the same time – each emotion showing and succeeding each other on his full-of-expressions-face.

Cars, motorcycles, trucks, buses and trams passed in front of him, amid a concert of noises he hadn't heard before like klaxons, engines and the sirens of police cars and fire engines…

Enjoying Artemus's emotional reactions Andamo had made a brief presentation of each vehicle to his grandfather then copied him as the older man looked up at the sky hearing a new sound. A plane was flying high above the high buildings.

Blinking slowly, amazed, Artie let out, "Oh my God…"

Andamo explained, "It's a plane," and then gave him a definition of what an airplane was.

Dumbfounded, Artie glanced around him. A lot of people walked past him and around him indifferent to him, some of them were chatting loudly, others called taxis and others were eating strange food wrapped in white, greasy paper or in small colored cardboard boxes (equally greasy), others waited on the edge of the sidewalks at the red lights. Others entered into stores while still others left them holding bags full of food and clothes. People were grouped around newsstands or hot dog sellers… They wore all kind of clothes and shoes and accessories, bags, hats, glasses… all with bright colors.

Everything was incredible!

He looked at Andamo standing beside him and said, "It's… noisy, and it smells bad, and there are a lot of people everywhere, and it's very noisy…" He grinned. "But it's fantastic! I never imagined that all this could exist one day… I feel like I've come here from the time of the mammoths …"

Grinning Andamo pointed at Lucky's car parked along the sidewalk, "And you know what you're talking about, right? You traveled back in time to the Prehistoric period once and saw mammoths."

Smiling, Artie took his place on the passenger seat while Andamo sat behind the wheel. "Your father told you that story too?"

Nodding, the younger man, a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose, started up the engine. "He told me everything – your voyage in the Prehistoric period included. I still can't believe you saw mammoths…"

Felling a bit frightened, Artemus grabbed the door of the convertible with one hand and his leather-covered seat with the other. "They almost killed Jim and me…"

Looking in the side mirror, Andamo left the edge of the sidewalk and said, "It's downtown, let me show you the rest of the city. Then we'll head to Sunset Beach to picnic there, there are other things to see there…" Beautiful girls in bikinis, he added in his mind.

No spoilers.

WWW

 _Much later, on Sunset Beach_

Planting the orange parasol in the golden sand, Andamo said, "Artemus, could you take the beach towels out of the bag and lay them on the sand, please?"

Complying, Artie said, "I never picnicked on the beach before, I think it's a very good idea." He heard women laughing behind him and he turned around. He almost had a heart attack when he saw two young women dressed in nothing but small pieces of fabric frolicking in the surf, playfully splashing each other. He couldn't help but stare at their perfect curved and tanned bodies. His jaw dropped open. "Oh boy…" He breathed. Then, feeling hot suddenly he unbuttoned his polo shirt. "Dear God! They're… They're wearing very little clothing, they're almost naked!" he added, his voice a few octaves higher.

Surprise faded rapidly replaced by a wave of embarrassment.

Opening the cooler, Andamo chuckled noticing Artie's reddened cheeks. "They're wearing bikinis. Sure, in 1890 nothing like that existed… Are you okay? You're all red…"

Sitting on his beach towel, Artie nodded. "Yes, I'm okay." And he lowered his eyes to the sand, embarrassment disappearing in its turn, replaced by a wave of desire.

But a few seconds later he couldn't help but look at the 'almost naked' women again – and then at other bikinis-clad young women with brunette, blonde, red and chestnut hair, playing with a ball to one side, hitting it with their hands to send it into the air to prevent it from touching the ground. "Beautiful…" He said. And, in his mind he pictured a jealous Lupita glaring at him. "Bad Artie…"

Opening a bottle of beer, Andamo grinned, "Oh yes! They're beautiful!" He placed it in Artie's hand and started to remove his clothes, ending up in a small black swimsuit.

Looking up at his grandson from head to toe, who was slim and muscular, and younger, Artemus let out a sigh, feeling suddenly old, very old and decrepit. He observed the cold, brown bottle in his hand. "Oh! It's a Budweiser, the king of beers! I didn't know that it still existed."

Raising a surprised eyebrow, Andamo asked, "You know about Budweiser beer?"

Bringing the bottle to his lips, Artie nodded. "Of course, that beer wasn't invented in the 20th century, it was introduced in 1876 by Carl Conrad & Co. of St. Louis, Missouri… Hmm, the bottle has remained relatively unchanged since that time." Then he took a long swig – staring at the couples French-kissing in a chorus of loud moans, sitting among the rocks to his left – shocked.

Swallowing a mouthful of beer, Andamo followed Artie's gaze. "Don't tell me that men and women don't kiss each other in your time?"

Blinking his stupefaction away, Artemus said, "Of course they do kiss, but not in public, it's considered as outrageous, indecent…"

Chuckling Andamo took a new swig of beer. "Not anymore… Oh! Look! Two lovely mademoiselles are heading our way…" And he swelled out his chest and flexed his muscles.

Two nice-looking young women wearing next to nothing knelt in the sand a couple of minutes later, in front of the two men, smiling.

The blonde woman wearing a barely-there two-toned hot pink bikini pushed her sunglasses up on her head and said, "Father and son, uh?" 'No wives in sight. Good!'

Grinning Andamo replied, "Yes, this is my dad Artemus, and I'm Andamo." He grabbed two Buds from the cooler and asked, "Do you want a beer ladies?"

The brunette who was wearing a yellow bikini raised her sunglasses from her eyes and grinned. "Sure, thanks! My name is Isabelle, and my friend here is Lisa." She grabbed a bottle and gave the other one to her companion. "It's the first time I saw you here…"

Nodding, Andamo replied, "Yes, I'm very busy. I don't come here often, rarely in fact. My partner Lucky and I own a restaurant, the _Fortuna_ , it's a yacht."

Isabelle nodded. "I heard about it, it's very classy and it has fancy expensive menus… not for me." Then she looked at Artemus, devouring him with her eyes…" You shouldn't have all those clothes on you…" Then, she reached out and in a flash removed his linen jacket before he could react and dropped it on the warm sand. She smiled. "That's a lot better," she purred.

Blushing up to his ears with embarrassment, Artie mumbled something inaudible – eyes zeroing in on the blonde's breasts which were barely covered by the yellow triangles of her bikini top and he stopped breathing for a few seconds.

Interested by Andamo, Isabelle offered her free hand to the Latino, "Let's take a walk along the water's edge, okay?"

Noticing Artemus's 'please don't leave me alone with her' pleading look, Andamo shook his head, "No, thank you, my dad is tired and he needs my help. Another time, maybe."

Feeling a lot better, Artie found his voice and said to Andamo, "Don't forget that your mother and I are invited to the West's house tonight. I'd like to take a nap before…"

Disappointed, the two young women stood, and Lisa said, "Thanks for the beer, see you," And then they left, heading toward the ocean showing a good amount of their perfect round, firm buttocks.

Feeling his cheeks getting flushed again Artie turned away from the tantalizing view and, immensely relieved, glanced at his grandson. "Thank you. I didn't know what to do… Boy! Women are not shy in 1960," he said.

Smiling Andamo shook his head, "No, they're not, Californian girls especially." Then he smirked. "I still can't believe you were intimidated by Lisa after you had all those women in your arms – and in your bed for decades!" And some were very dangerous! And they even tried to kill you!"

Artie took a swig of cold Budweiser and said, "I know, I was there. That was a long time ago, now that I am with Lupita… " And his face fell, as he realized that Lupita was dead and his throat tightened. "Oh God… Lupita; she's dead."

Placing a comforting hand on his grandfather's shoulder, Andamo said, "You'll see her again, once you're back in your time." He smiled. "So, Lupita and you are together already?"

Rolling the bottle of beer in his hands, Artemus replied, "No, not yet, we just had our first date at the Mexican Embassy… and Loveless kidnapped us." He paused. "We have just started our relationship. We're taking things slow. We haven't been intimate yet…"

The Latino nodded, "My grandmother told me what happened. It was an unforgettable date! She told me what happened after that too, combining her story and yours." Seeing that Artie was still sad, he added, "Don't worry, she's okay. You will be together again – otherwise I wouldn't be born and wouldn't be here with you. And it's all I know." He smiled and continued, "She never told me what happened after she met Michelito Loveless in his house in Chesapeake Bay. She never mentioned a time machine and you and Jim being exiled in another time and place, and she never mentioned you being here in 1960. You told me all that. My dad didn't know what happened after that either. It was secret."

The older man took a swig of beer. "There's a simple explanation. Lupita and I kept that part secret because your dad would have asked me many questions and our answers could have changed the future."

He shook his head, amazed and added, "It's strange to talk about your father, who's my son, who's not even born yet in my time. By the way, Andamo, does he look like you, I mean like me?"

Pulling out a couple of sandwiches from the cooler, Andamo nodded. "Yes, he's your portrait – with Lupita's eyes." He smiled. "I have your eyes."

Unwrapping a tuna, salad, tomato and mayonnaise sandwich, he continued, "So, how was your date with Lupita, before Loveless showed?" He removed the paper around the second s andwich, discovering a baguette, butter, sausage and pickles sandwich, he offered to Artie. "It's yours, it's very French, but we're the 14th of July, the Bastille Day in France, so it's appropriate."

Smiling, Artie took his French sandwich and said, "I asked the Chef of the _Fortuna_ to make it precisely for that reason."

He noticed that Andamo was looking at a tanned blonde woman smiling at his grandson. She was very busty, with long legs wearing a red bikini and smiled. "Do you know her?"

The Latino shook his head, "No, but it's a matter of seconds, see you later Artemus." He dropped his sandwich in the cooler and ran toward the water's edge.

The older man smiled. "Have a nice time my boy."

Then he fished a book out of the bag and observed Andamo and the blonde get acquainted ... before going toward the foamy waves, chatting.

Sitting cross-legged in the shade of the parasol, Artie settled his book (History of America, the first half of the 20th century) on his lap and bit into his sandwich.

Tbc.


	5. Act Four

**THE NIGHT OF JULY 14th, 1960**

 **By Andamogirl**

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 **ACT FOUR**

 _The next morning,_

 _0230 AM_

The restaurant's dining room was deserted when Artemus entered the place still wearing his cook attire – a white toque and a white jacket - a grin illuminating his tired face.

Lucky and Andamo, both sitting at a table, were having a cup of coffee and smoking a cigarette when they saw him.

Immediately, Andamo waved to his grandfather. "How was it?" he asked him, curious.

Rubbing his temples, Artie took a place at the table. "It was intense and exhausting. I usually cook for two, for Jim and me, or for Jim, me and two lovely ladies… I never prepared food for close to 100 people before, it was intense, tiring, but it was very exciting too!"

Lucky smiled. "The Chef told me that he greatly appreciated your work Artemus. You were very professional, he said. And he really loved – and our customers too – all the French pastries you made. You know, I'm thinking about keeping you here - indefinitely."

Artie shook his head. "Thank you very much Lucky, but my place is in my own time, working with my partner. I can't stay here – and I won't."

Lucky offered Artie a cigarette then lit it with his lighter. "I was joking, of course."

Smiling weakly Artemus yawned and stood up. "I know. If you will excuse me, it's late and I've had a long and excruciating day. Good night, gentlemen."

Both Lucky and Andamo said in a concert, "Good night, sleep well."

Once Artie was gone, Andamo smiled broadly. "He's such a marvelous man! He's a Secret agent extraordinaire, a master of disguise, a great actor, a great musician – he can play violin and piano like a concert professional– he's a great cook too and he can speak many languages: French, German, Spanish, Russian… etc. He can take on any kind of accent too, upper class English accent, Texas accent… He's a man of many talents."

Lucky chuckled. "I know now why you wanted to meet him – you revere him, compadre, he's your idol. And I understand why you do. He is indeed a man of many talents."

Smiling, Andamo nodded. "And he's an Indian too, a Cheyenne warrior, a Crow warrior and a Comanche warrior. Let me tell you ow he got his Comanche tattoo…"

Once outside, Artemus fished a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the side pocket of his white cook jacket. First a pause, then bed, he thought.

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 _Later_

Artemus was leaning heavily against the rail of the fantail, relaxing, enjoying a third cigarette when he heard a low thud, then another one, louder.

He immediately bent over the rail and saw a dark motorboat berthing by the gangway. Three men left it a few seconds later, armed with guns.

They wore dark well-tailored suits and their faces were hidden behind masks. "Bandits!" he whispered. He threw his cigarette overboard and rushed toward the large door of the dining room.

Unfortunately one of the bandits saw the Secret Service agent and the man moved to intercept Artie just before he could reach the door.

He pointed his . 38 at the older man. "You, the cook! Freeze or I shoot you!"

Suppressing a swear, Artie complied reluctantly and he slowly raised his hands above his head. "Don't shoot me!" he said feigning fright.

The gangster smiled. "That's a good cook. Now turn around." Keeping his eyes on Artemus, he said to his companions, "Go to the restaurant, and take the money. I'm gonna take care of the cook." The other bandits headed toward the dining room. "Turn around, old man, slowly," he added.

Keeping his hands above his head, Artemus did what he was told, tautening his muscles, ready for action. But he didn't have time to do anything.

The gangster punched Artie against a nearby bulkhead, hard, almost breaking the older man's nose as his face made contact with the white-painted wood. "Don't move grandpa." He lifted his gun, butt first and brought it down, targeting the back of Artie's head.

But the Special Agent didn't comply. He whirled around in a split second and caught the gun in his two hands. Then, grabbing the revolver in one hand, he punched the gangster with his other one, hard and there was a cracking sound.

Before he could cry out in pain, he pressed a pressure point between the bandit's shoulder and neck, rendering him instantly unconscious.

The man collapsed to the deck, unconscious, blood pooling under his broken nose. Artie massaged his aching knuckles, smiling, proud of himself. "Not bad for an old man… Ow!"

Holding the .38 Artemus silently moved along the deck, keeping his head low, and peered inside the restaurant dining room, through a window.

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Lucky and Andamo, standing beside the safe had a gun pointed at them both. "Okay, Lucky," the tallest bandit said. "Open the safe and give us all the money. No tricks! I won't hesitate to kill you."

Looking falsely innocent, Andamo feigned surprise. "All the money? We barely had three customers tonight. There's only 50 dollars in the safe."

The shortest bandit grabbed Andamo's arm and twisted it behind his back painfully, nearly dislocating his shoulder. "Very funny! I don't believe you."

The Latino cried out and sank to his knees, wincing.

Lucky took a step forward. "Andamo!" and ended with the muzzle of a .44 against his jaw. "Don't do anything you might regret."

Pulling himself upright, Andamo rubbed his pounding shoulder. "I'm alright," he said to his worried best friend. "I'm okay."

Suddenly, Artemus entered the vast room, face like stone. He stopped, aimed calmly and fired precisely. The bandits crumpled on the floor, each with a bullet in their shoulder.

Lucky and Andamo were surprised for a couple of seconds then immediately grabbed the other men's guns, pointing them at their owners. "Don't move!" they both said.

The Latino smiled in admiration and winked at his grandfather. "Nice shooting for an old cook," he said bowing his head.

Lucky nodded. "I'm calling the launch and Lieutenant Rovacs. He should be there with a squad in 30 minutes." He patted Artie's shoulder. "Thank you, Artemus."

Artemus finally lowered his gun. "That was a pleasure, Lucky. There's another bandit in the fantail. I knocked him out. You should find a rope and tie him up."

Lucky nodded. "Okay, I'm going to do it before calling the Lieutenant. You two stay here with our guests keeping an eye of them." Then he left the dining room, running.

Seeing that Andamo was rubbing his aching shoulder, concerned, Artie asked, "Are you okay?"

Setting his gun down on a table, Andamo took his cigarette case from the inside pocket of his white spencer jacket and opened it. "Yes, I'm okay thank you. You?"

Lifting his right hand Artemus, flexed his sore fingers. "I'm fine. I knocked out that bandit with a single punch, I'm still good."

Smiling, Andamo offered a cigarette to his grandfather and then lit it with his gold-plated lighter. Then he placed a cigarette between his lips.

Soon after, the two men were letting out puffs of smoke.

Intrigued, Artie asked, "I've noticed that you smoke cigarettes with your left hand while you're right handed my boy, can you tell me why?"

Andamo chuckled. Artemus too was using his left hand to hold his cigarette. "You too. That way I keep my right hand ready to do anything – like pulling a gun out of my pocket. It's quicker than the left one."

Still aiming at the bandits lying on the floor, Artemus sat down on a chair, wrapped his lips around the cigarette again and drew the smoke in.

He smiled and said, "A new point of similarity between us." He puffed a cloud of smoke to the ceiling. "I prefer cigars myself, the cigars the late President Grant was smoking to be precise, but I'm beginning to like cigarettes a lot."

Andamo nodded. "After what you just did, I'm going to offer you box of cigars, the best cigars! You were prodigious! So calm, and your aim was perfect."

Artemus waved his left hand. "That's nothing really. I'm an excellent marksman at close range. They didn't have a chance."

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 _Later_

 _0310 AM_

Lieutenant Rovacs watched his men take the robbers to the launch and then joined Lucky, Andamo and Artemus in the restaurant dining room.

They were drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes, enveloped in a cloud of smoke. "The boys will put them in a jail shortly," he said taking a place on an empty chair. He looked at Artie, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Lucky told me it was you who shot them, and who neutralized the third goon. You're pretty good with your fists and with a gun for a cook mister… mister…?"

In a matter of seconds Artie realized that he couldn't say that he was Andamo's grandfather as Feliz was two years older than him. He was born in 1892.

He smiled, "I'm Artemus Gordon, Andamo's uncle, Feliz's half-brother. We have a different mother, but the same father." He paused dropping the butt of his cigarette in the ashtray. "Oh that was pure luck you know? I hate guns and any kind violence in general. I came here to see how Andamo is doing and spend some time with him. It happens that I'm a good cook and as Lucky needed an assistant to his Chef, I offered him my services during my stay here, to thank him for his hospitality."

Keeping his face neutral, Andamo hid a smile. "He's perfect at lying, what a good actor! He thought. Then he poured a cup of coffee for Rovacs. "A cup of coffee Lieutenant?"

Rovacs nodded. "Thanks." He took a sip, grimaced at the bitterness and said, "So you're Andamo's uncle, that explains the stunning resemblance. The two of you really look alike. That's incredible!" Now that you are yourself again, tell me what happened to you. We found you almost naked wandering through the streets…"

To make his story more credible, Artemus rubbed the back of his head in a faux automatic gesture. "I was attacked on my way to the port. Two men hit me on my head hard and I passed out. They took everything, my money, my clothes, and my luggage. When I regained consciousness, I was so groggy and disoriented that I got lost. Fortunately for me a police patrol found me, then you brought me here, to my nephew, and I thank you, Lieutenant."

Rovacs nodded again. "Did you see the men who did that to you?"

Artie shook his head." No, they were masked."

The police officer gulped down his coffee and said, "I'd like to see you at the police headquarters as soon as possible, Mr. Gordon. You need to make a theft and assault report and file a complaint."

Artie shook his head. "That won't be necessary Lieutenant. What they stole from me can easily be replaced. I already forgot what happened."

Rovacs frowned even more suspicious. 'Something's not right here', he thought. 'Artemus Gordon, hmm… once back in my office I will search out any bit of information on the guy. And I'll have the whole story.' He stood up and said, "Okay, it is your right not to file a complaint. I have a report to write, Lucky, Andamo, Mr. Gordon, good night."

Then he left the restaurant dining room.

Lucky exhaled a puff of smoke and said, "You lied very well, Artemus, but I know Rovacs, he's a very suspicious man. I think he didn't buy your story. He's going to find information on you as soon as he reaches his desk and his phone. "

Artie sighed and drew out a matchbox from his side pants pocket. He lit another cigarette, took a drag on it, and let the smoke out slowly, watching it ascending toward the ceiling where it met the cloud floating there. Then he looked at the Lucky. "Then I guess we'll see the Lieutenant again, soon. The Secret Service still has my file, I suppose, archived of course. But as I am dead, he won't have any trouble accessing it. My file is probably declassified." He smiled. "I bet that he'll be very surprised to read 'deceased'' written on top of it."

Lucky nodded. "Then we'll tell him the whole story. Rovacs is a cop yes, but he's a good guy; he'll keep all of it to himself. Your secret will be safe with him." Seeing that Artemus and Andamo had both closed their eyes with fatigue, he said, "Let's call it a night."

The two Gordon's yawned in concert.

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 _0730 AM_

Lieutenant Rovacs dropped the two files he was holding on the table and looking at Lucky he said, "I need to talk to the three of you, it's important."

Lucky poured himself a third cup of coffee. "Andamo and Artemus are still sleeping Lieutenant. I'm barely awake myself. But someone has to keep an eye on the Fortuna."

The white-haired man frowned, upset and ordered. "Now, Lucky!"

Lucked nodded. "Alright, but I'm not sure they will be very cooperative after only 4 hours' sleep." He stood up and then left the fantail, heading toward the cabins.

He knocked at Andamo's door first and then entered, finding the younger man still clothed sprawled on his bed, lying on his stomach, his head half buried in the pillow.

Lucky smiled and sat on the edge of the mattress. He shook his best friend's shoulder, gently. "Andamo, wake up buddy," he said. No reaction. The tall man rolled the younger man on his back and tapped his best friend's cheeks eliciting a soft moan from Andamo. "Come on compadre, come on, wake up."

Moaning Andamo slowly opened his eyes. "Wha…?" he blinked twice then closed his eyes and drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

Lucky chuckled softly and tapped Andamo's cheeks again. "Okay buddy, wake up!"

The Latino opened his eyes slowly again and said, "Let me sleep please Lucky and wake me in a week or so. Okay?"

Lucky shook his head. "I can't, I'm sorry. Rovacs is here, he wants to see us. I mean Artemus, you and me. I'm going back to the fantail, I'll leave you to wake up, Artemus. I prepared breakfast."

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 _Later_

Both Andamo and Artemus both slumped tiredly into a chair, shoulders hunched, each of them glaring with puffy eyes at Lieutenant Rovacs.

The policeman smiled, amazed. "The two of you have exactly the same expression you know? You could be twins if there were not such an age gap between you."

Huffing Andamo nodded and started spreading strawberry jam on a piece of bread. "What do you want? I hope it's important, otherwise I'm going to head back to my bed," he said grumpily. Then he took the cup of coffee Lucky had prepared for him. "Thanks."

Rovacs opened the first file, the one on the top. "The men who came on board last night to rob you are working for Julius Hirsch, the famous mobster ruling the East Side." He showed the three men mugshots of the robbers then a photo of Julius Hirsch. "Of course they didn't say a word and they won't. They know what would happen to them in prison if they talk to the police. Hirsch doesn't risk anything."

Lucky frowned, puzzled. "Why would Hirsch want money? He could buy the whole country if he wanted to. It makes no sense at all."

Rovacs closed the file. "There are rumors that Hirsch lost a great deal of money – almost all his fortune – buying gold mines in a South American country. He was in cahoots with the local El Dictador when a revolution broke out and he was forced from power. The mines were nationalized right after. He needs money, and the _Fortuna_ is an easy target. It has not got armed men guarding the safe and there's always lots of money in it and only Andamo and you are onboard once the customers are gone."

Closing his eyes Andamo stretched, raising his arms over his head and yawned - before reopening them and asking, "Do you think he'll try to rob us again?"

The police officer nodded. "Oh I'm sure, that's why I'm going to post two police cars on the port to dissuade bad guys from heading toward the _Fortuna_." He closed the file and opened the second file which was a thick one, while looking at Artemus who was eating a croissant au beurrehungrily. "Now let's talk about you Mr. Gordon. I was suspicious last night and didn't buy your story – at all. Call it cop's instinct. And you get rid of Hirsch's henchmen calmly and easily, like a great professional – like a hit man…"

Freezing, Artie said, "I'm not a hit man." Then he swallowed a piece of French pastry looking at the policeman right in his eyes, impassible.

Rovacs continued, "Or a Secret Service man…" and there was no reaction from Artemus who just finished his croissant.

Slowly wiping his greasy fingers on the napkin Artie asked, "Which do you prefer?"

The police Lieutenant replied, "Both being possible, I didn't choose. I contacted a friend of mine working at the FBI and asked if he knew a hit man matching your description, and after a while he said no. Then I contacted a friend of mine working at the CIA." He tapped on the file with two fingers and added, "He found this and sent it to me. It's a very old file from the first US Secret Service – it has been declassified of course – because Artemus Gordon is _dead._ He died 50 years ago." He pulled out a document from the file and brandished it. "This document is your death certificate!" He paused staring at Artie but the older man didn't react. He added, "If I believe what's in this folder, Artemus Gordon is Feliz Gordon's father, so you're not Andamo's uncle. You're his grandfather."

Pouring himself a cup of coffee Artie smiled mischievously. "Do I look dead to you Lieutenant? As you can see, I'm very much alive."

Lieutenant Rovacs shook his head. "Yes, that's why I think that old file is phony." And he pushed the file into the middle of the table. "The only real thing here is you being a Gordon, there's no doubt about that because there's a striking resemblance between Andamo and you. But are you even his uncle? I don't have any information on you and won't have any – why? Because you're an agent of the CIA."

Lucky, Andamo and Artemus exchanged a knowing look. 'Let him think that, so we won't have to tell him the truth.' They both thought at the same time.

Smiling Artemus nodded and then took a sip of his coffee. "I would appreciate that you stay discreet on my secret profession, Lieutenant," he said.

Rovacs nodded. "Of course. Are you on a mission?"

Artemus waved his finger. "I can't tell you, it's secret. But I really was assaulted and robbed of everything except my underwear and I was concussed."

Lucky took Artemus Gordon's Secret Service file and started browsing the old, yellowish pages more and more fascinated by what he read here and there.

Every detail on Artemus Gordon was held there: a personal profile with photos of Artemus as a Captain in the Union Army, in civil clothes as agent of the Secret Service, as an old man dressed in a Colonel's uniform shaking President Roosevelt's hand, etc; lists of missions – he counted 20 pages - medical files, lists of commendations and citations from Presidents Grant, Hayes, Garfield, Arthur, Cleveland, Harrison, Cleveland again, McKinley and finally Roosevelt, a list of all the decorations he had received, many medals of valor and three Medals of Honor! And finally he found Artemus's death certificate. 1830-1910. He was buried in Arlington… He looked at Artemus in awe. The man sitting beside him and sipping his coffee was a hero.

He knew why Andamo had such great admiration for his grandfather – 'and I do too, now', Lucky thought with reverential respect.

Lieutenant Rovacs pointed at the file in Lucky's hands while still watching Artemus. "I read it, it's really impressive! If the guys working for the CIA personnel department can write such a phony file, they should make a fortune writing fairy tale books and scenarios for movies. You can keep it Mr. Gordon, I don't need it." He stood up and added, "Be careful, all of you and call me if something bad happens." Then he headed to the gangway where the launch was waiting.

Still tired, Andamo yawned widely and rubbed his puffy eyes. "Do you think Hirsch is going to send his men here again?"

Frowning, worried, Lucky nodded. "Yes, I think so. But if Artemus here gets rid of them like he did with those guys last night, he will think twice about doing it again."

Artemus chuckled. "Are you hiring me as a gunslinger now?" He took his file and opened it, paying attention to the photos only. He took one of Jim and he both dressed in a Union Captain's uniform and sighed missing his best friend and partner very much. "It's my partner James West and I. We had both received the Medal of Honor from President Grant."

Andamo opened his eyes wide amazed. "You have a Medal of Honor?" Andamo asked. "Whoa! You never told me. Can I see the photo?"

Artie gave it to his grandson. "Actually I have three Medals of Honor, and I don't know how many medals of valor I have too." He smiled. "It was a long time ago. Jim and I we… we…" His face suddenly shadowed and his eyes misted with tears. The vacuum left by Jim at his side was becoming unbearable. He had held on so far in trying not to think about it, but it was impossible now. He didn't know what to do, he thought, apart from crying over his loss. He stood up. "Excuse me, but I need to go back to my cabin to end my too short night in my bed. I'm very tired. See you later, gentlemen."

Shoulders hunched, he left the fantail and headed toward his cabin.

Lucky frowned in concern. "He misses his partner a lot."

Sympathetic to his grandfather's sadness, Andamo nodded placing the photo back in the file. "Jim West is more than his partner Lucky; he's like a brother to him. he misses him a lot and he's worried about him a. He can't protect him. They are used to protecting each other since the end of the war, I mean the Civil War."

Lucky nodded. "I understand, I feel the same way with you buddy."

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 _Later, at the end of the afternoon_

Stretched out on the comfortable couch of the fantail, lit by the golden sunset, Artemus was reading the local newspaper when Andamo joined the older man.

The Latino took a seat on the nearby cushion and smiled broadly, amused. His grandfather was wearing khaki Bermuda shorts and a white T-shirt and he was barefoot. He was completely relaxed.

He chuckled and said, "You know, I always thought that the famous Special Agent of the Secret Service Artemus Gordon never relaxed, was always ready to grab his gun or pull out a sleeping gas bomb from his pocket to react to any threat, night and day – and even while on leave."

Lowering the Puerto Verde Herald, Artie grinned. "Our lives didn't – I mean they don't look like those of the spies you see in movies on television – who never rest and who always have their gun at hand and are ready to go on missions at any time, day and night and don't even wince when they're hurt, and spend a few hours at the hospital after a bullet wound. It's nonsense! The real life of special agents is not like that. What a wonderful invention is television by the way! I spent the whole afternoon watching it, especially 'westerns' and I loved it. Didn't your father tell you about that?"

Reaching out toward the bottle of lemonade sat on the low table, Andamo replied, "No, he didn't. He told me about all your action-intense life. Not the calm episodes. He was so proud of your incredible exploits – and still is. He loves you."

Looking at the bright orange sun, Artie nodded. "I'd like to meet him very much… and I will. I didn't think that I would fall in love again having been broken-hearted twice…"

Furrowing his brow in curiosity, Andamo asked. "I know about Lily Fortune… but who is the other woman who broke your heart?"

Looking again at his grandson, Artie sighed. "White Crow. She's a Crow warrior… " He waved his hand. "The past is past." He paused and smiled. "I thought I would never get married and have a son and a grandson... I thought I would end up being killed on a mission ... or with a lot of luck, end up alone in my family home, old, surrounded by cats…"

Andamo nodded. "My grandmother never told me about those calm moments in your life either, you know? She loved that kind of life too."

Folding the newspaper on his lap, Artie chuckled. "I'm sure that my life at her side is going to be very eventful and dangerous. Could you tell be about that?"

Pouring himself a glass of cold, bubbling liquid, Andamo shook his head, "I could, but I'm not going to. I wouldn't want to spoil your fun, so it's a no. I'm not going to say a single word about that."

Stretching like an oversized cat, Artie said, "Jim and I relaxed after each mission usually in charming company in front of a dinner I prepared or in a restaurant, with wine and Champagne…"

The Latino took a sip of lemonade, smiled and said, "My father told me that during that mission in Mexico, Lupita had kissed Jim first… then slapped him."

Smiling too Artemus moved into a sitting position on his large cushion. "I was attracted to Lupita since I saw her in this potter's workshop and I was frustrated at Jim kissing her, and not me. I wasn't jealous, I don't know what it is, anyway… So Lupita kissed me… and something happened, like as if I had been struck by lightning and she looked at me with love, smiling… what an adorable smile, so charming and tender… We both fell in love with each other at the same time and then she slapped me so Jim and I are even. She didn't want to wreak havoc between us because of her, and that would never have happened anyway, as Jim and I are like brothers, but it was a delicate gesture."

Chuckling Andamo added, "Then you took her to a restaurant and after dinner, you spent the night together in a hotel room…"

Pouring himself another glass of lemonade Artie replied, "It was a night in heaven…" He swallowed a mouthful of lemonade, ending the conversation that way. Then, setting the empty glass back on the coffee table he stood and added, "I have to go to the galley now."

WWW

 _Much later_

 _0136_

Lucky found Artemus standing on the deck at his favorite place, leaning against the rail of the fantail watching the last launch leave the gangway.

He was holding a half-smoked cigarette between his fingers.

The older man was still dressed in his cook's attire, lost in his thoughts. "You had many other compliments from the Chef and the customers", the tall man said. "Your boeuf Stroganov with roasted potatoes, garlic and parsley was a must. Everyone ordered it in the restaurant or almost."

Artemus took a drag and blew the smoke out, tapping lightly on top of his cigarette with his index finger letting the ashes fall down to the calm ocean. "I'm glad they liked it," he said flatly.

Lucky moved closer, leaning against the rail too, watching the lights of the shore shining three miles away. He sighed and said, "When Andamo vanished two months ago thanks to Otepek, I almost went mad with worry. He had just vanished into thin air and I didn't know what happened, where he was… We have dangerous enemies, he and I." He paused and glanced at Artie. "I couldn't sleep anymore, I wasn't eating anymore, I didn't move from the phone expecting a call from him, or dreading a call from Rovacs, from the hospital or from the morgue… I didn't know if he was alive, or dead. That was true hell! I have a brother's love for Andamo, and I understand what you feel now. The man you love like a brother is somewhere, trapped in the past, maybe in danger and you can't help him." He placed a soothing hand on the older man's shoulder. "But you won't stay here, you and I both know that, you'll go back to your time and James West. You'll be together again - I don't know how and when, but you will be reunited."

Nodding, Artie smiled feeling much better. "I miss him so much, and my life at his side too, I completely forgot that. Thank you for reminding me."

Lucky smiled too, happy to see that the older man felt better. "Go to your cabin, take some rest Artemus, I'll take the first shift. Then Andamo will. He'll wake you for your shift."

Artie nodded. "Alright, good night Lucky and thank you again," he said, after throwing his cigarette overboard. He turned around and headed toward the cabins.

WWW

 _Much later_

BANG!

A gunshot, then a second awoke Artemus with a start.

He didn't bother putting some clothes on and, wearing only his striped pajamas, he opened the door of his cabin. Once in the corridor he heard a third gunshot – and a cry of pain followed by a curse in Spanish. He recognized his grandson's voice and his blood ran cold in his veins.

Andamo was hurt!

The bandits had returned!

Hirsch had sent more of his henchmen on board and they had avoided the policemen posted on the port and had come on board, he thought.

Careful, silent, Artemus climbed the metal stairs leading to the deck and followed the voices resounding in the night. They came from the restaurant dining room.

Through a partially opened window the US Secret Service agent saw three masked and armed gangsters plus Lucky and Andamo standing next to an open and now empty safe.

One of the gangsters was holding a fully stocked linen bag, bundles of banknotes coming out from the opening at the top.

He noticed that Andamo was grasping his left arm, grimacing in pain. Blood was pouring through a hole in the sleeve of his white bolero jacket. He sighed in relief, his grandson wasn't seriously wounded. He tightened his jaw readying himself for action.

Now he had to stop the bandits!

One of the gangsters, probably the leader of the group, said, "If you call the police Lucky, your friend here is dead." He snapped his fingers. "Hold the Mexican!" Immediately the two other men grabbed Andamo pretty roughly, pointing a gun at him." He added, "We'll release him somewhere in the city, once we are safe." He pointed his revolver at Lucky and finally said, "Stay here."

Almost crouching Artie walked toward the gangway. He glanced above the rail and saw a dark boat waiting there with the masked pilot on board, its motor whirring, and ready to depart.

He glanced then at the side door of the restaurant dining room. The bandits plus Andamo were going to appear on the deck anytime now, he mused.

His plan fixed in his head, Artemus climbed the stairway that led to the upper deck and moved to the rail overlooking the lower deck at the gangway.

Silently, he crouched on the floor, so as the man on the boat couldn't see him and give warning to his accomplices or worse, take out a gun and shoot him. 'At the last moment, when they are on the lower deck, beneath me, I'll straddle the rail and throw myself on top of them. I will use the element of surprise to get rid of them,' He thought, sure of success.

Half a minute later the gangsters and Andamo appeared on the deck.

Shortly after, Artie threw himself on top of the robbers and pinned two of them beneath his large frame. He pulled himself upright in a matter of seconds, grabbed a gun that one gangster had dropped on the deck then fired at the goon holding the bag filled with banknotes. The gangster cried out in pain, and collapsed, a bullet in his leg, and dropped his gun overboard. Using the butt of his gun Artie hit the head of the second groggy gangster who was moving upright on his knees.

He pivoted in a split second to face the third gangster and saw the leader of the bandits aim his gun at him and then heard a loud BANG.

The impact of the bullet to his body, threw Artie against the nearby bulkhead and with a yelp he slid to the floor, slowly, grimacing in pain, tears welling to his eyes. "Ow! God!" He let out, one hand clamped tightly over the burning wound in his right side.

In a flash Andamo grabbed the gun Artie was still holding and fired at the other man – hitting him square in his chest. The gangster crumpled onto the deck like a sack of potatoes.

Hearing gunshots, the man in the motorboat hurried to untie the tether and left the _Fortuna II_ at top speed, heading towards the shore.

His face pale and his brow furrowed in deep worry Andamo knelt beside his grandfather who was seriously wounded watching the blood paint the white jacket red. "Lucky!" He called. Luckyyyyyy!"

Lucky headed toward them at top speed. "I just called Rovacs with the ship-to-shore phone and then Pudge. He'll be here within ten minutes at most. An ambulance will arrive on the dock within minutes too." He also knelt beside Artemus, still slumped up against the bulkhead. "Artemus ?"

Blinking slowly, trying to stay conscious Artie whispered, "M still here…"

Lucky gently lay the wounded man down on the deck. "We are going to take you to the hospital, Artemus. Hold on." He added his own hands on top of the secret agent's and pressed even more on the wound. The pain was so sharp and deep that Artie cried out and almost heaved. "I'm sorry, but we need to slow the bleeding. Andamo, continue to press on the wound, while I remove my jacket!"

Hurting too, bleeding too, but injured less seriously, the Latino immediately complied, wincing. "You're going to be okay, Artemus," he said, hoping he was right.

Lucky quickly removed his jacket, rolled it in a tight ball and, holding it in one hand; he used his free hand to remove Andamo's hand and Artie's. He pulled the older man's jacket up to his chest, revealing a gaping wound on his right side, a lot of blood pouring freely from it.

Lucky grimaced. "It doesn't look too bad, you'll be okay." He placed his jacket on top and applied pressure on the bullet wound. "I'm sorry, but I have to do it," he said.

Eyes tight shut, Artie let out a strangled cry of agony and gritted his teeth, tears of intense pain rolling down his cheeks.

He blacked out for an instant, then opened his eyes again, his vision graying out around the edges. He was losing consciousness, he realized. "It's alright… alright," he breathed. "It's not the first time I've been shot… Ow! That hurts!' He hoarsely rasped out. He closed his eyes. "Jim… help," he croaked, then he passed out, going limp on the deck of the _Fortuna II_.

Lucky stood. "I'm going to find ropes to tie the gangsters up."

WWW

 _On the harbor at the same time_

Happy and relieved James West grinned.

Because After searching for the _Fortuna II_ along the wharfs and the docks of Puerto Verde for hours, he had finally found her, floating miles away from the shore, its neon sign that read "Lucky's" alongside a tall, thin and one-eyed cat flashing in the night, he mused. "Artie's on board," he said. "I have to find a way to reach him, but not by swimming, if possible…"

Hearing a noise, he moved closer to the edge and saw a motorboat ready to depart down the gangway. Holding his . 45 Colt in his hand, he ran there and then jumped in the back of the boat.

He pointed his gun at the pilot who immediately raised his hands and said, "Don't be afraid! I'm not going to shoot you. "He pulled his identification card out of the inner pocket of his jacket. "My name's James West, I'm a Special Agent of the Government. I need to get on that boat over there, the _Fortuna_. Take me there, please." Then he lowered his revolver.

Feeling much better, Pudge lowered his hands, nodded, said, "Okay," Then he left the gangway. Once heading toward the giant yacht, the man turned around and said, "I was heading toward her anyway you know, Sir. There was a shooting on board and the new assistant cook is wounded. Lucky and Andamo – the owners of the _Fortuna_ – need my boat to transport the man to the dock. An ambulance is coming for him."

His six sense tingling, Jim frowned in worry. "This man, the cook, do you know is name?" he asked sitting on a bench.

The older man nodded, changing course to reach the yacht's gangway. "His name is Artemus Gordon. Do you know him?"

Jim nodded and asked. "Yes, I know him very well. When do we reach the _Fortuna_?"

The pilot accelerated. "In five minutes."

WWW

 _Later_

The large motorboat had just reached the _Fortuna_ _II_ when Jim jumped on the gangway and climbed it at top speed… to stop dead in his tracks at the top a few seconds later, seeing his best friend lying prone on the deck, unmoving and still. Artie was framed between a tall, dark-haired man he didn't know, dressed in a black suit (minus the jacket) and Andamo he recognized immediately. He frowned in worry as he spotted blood on the Latino's sleeve.

He noticed then Artemus's pajama jacket, reddened with blood. "Artie!" he said, blanching.

He hurried toward the other men and sank to his knees beside his wounded partner, Andamo moving to Artie's feet to give him room.

Looking at Jim with utter surprise Andamo said his tone as reassuring as possible, "He's still alive, Jim. He's just unconscious." Then he frowned, puzzled. "I wasn't expecting you, you know? Artemus told me that Loveless had exiled you in the English Middle Ages."

Shaking his head, Jim replied, "Oh he wanted to, but it didn't happen." He pointed at Andamo's wound and added, "You're injured."

The Latino nodded. "It's nothing, don't worry." He grinned. "I should have known that you would come to the rescue, you always do that when Artemus is in danger."

Sighing in relief, Jim gently turned Artemus over to check for an exit wound, and found one meaning that the bullet wouldn't have to be surgically removed and complications avoided. "And Artemus always intervenes when I'm in danger too, saving my life each time." After that, he rolled the older man on his back and took Artie's hand in his, finding it burning with fever. He shook it gently, but firmly. "Artie! Wake up buddy!" And Artemus's eyes fluttered open. "Come on Artie!"

Eyes half-opened, Artie smiled weakly. His eyes were going glassy and having trouble staying open. He was shivering but also sweating. "Jim-my-boy, fancy… meeting you here. I thought you were… you were stuck in medieval England… courting some 'demoiselles endétresse' in some castles… or jousting, or killing a dragon or two, y'know… a knight's day job."

Jim smiled. "Dragons exist only in fairy tales and I didn't travel in time. It's a long story. Hold on buddy, I'm going to bring you home."

Artie managed a very small smile. "Home… y's, bring m' home, I have a date with Lupi…" Then he slipped into unconsciousness again.

Jim turned toward Andamo, rested Artie's hand on his stomach and then took the Latino in his arms. He hugged the younger man for a long moment. "It's good to see you again, Andamo." He said, finally pulling out from the embrace watching the younger man wince. "Sorry. I missed you, my boy."

Andamo smiled broadly. "I missed you too, Jim."

Jim turned his head toward the other man. "You must be Mr. Lucky, Andamo's best friend and partner? I'm James West…"

Lucky nodded. "You're Artemus best friend and partner, I know. I saw a photo of Artemus and you. It's a pleasure to meet you Sir. I would have liked this to be under other circumstances."

Nodding, Jim placed his hand on Artie's shoulder. "Me too. What happened here?" He glanced at the unconscious men lying on the deck, wrists and ankles tied up with rope.

Lucky said, "Gangsters, I mean bandits attacked us, emptied the chest, took Andamo hostage. Artemus got rid of two of them, but the third shot him. It was an act of great courage… "

Nodding too, Andamo added, "Not surprising coming from him."

Pressing Artie's hand in his, Jim said, "The usual then. Ok, t's time to go home, buddy. The requested energy to transport us back to our time is so huge that Loveless Junior's machine is about to explode anytime now. There is no time to lose." He looked at Andamo. The Latino was sad to see them leave. "Don't be sad, Andamo. We'll see each other again. Your friend the god Otepek can grant you another travel in time, in fact any travel you want. Find his statue and come to visit us anytime, Artie and I we'll be delighted to see you again."

Andamo beamed. "That's a wonderful idea! Yes, I will."

Holding Artie's hand in his, Jim hit the red button on the bracelet (Loveless's) then both Artie and he were transformed into a ball of pure energy.

Moving back Lucky and Andamo gasped in stupefaction, eyes going impossibly wide. Then the two 19th century men vanished.

Lucky frowned, embarrassed. 'What am I going to say to Rovacs now?" Seeing Andamo grimace in pain, he added, "First you need to go to the hospital."

Tbc.


	6. Tag

**THE NIGHT OF JULY 14th, 1960**

 **By Andamogirl**

WWW

 **TAG**

 _Shortly after, in Michelito Loveless's lab_

The two US Secret Service agents materialized in the same ball of pure energy five seconds later on the podium of Loveless's time travel machine just before it exploded, sending huge sparks and then big flames everywhere across the laboratory.

Pieces of it flew everywhere, embedding in the ceiling, in the floor and in the walls.

Small tendrils of electricity still running over his skin covered with goose bumps (same thing for Artie), Jim threw his passed-out partner over his shoulder and quickly followed by Loveless Jr., who had activated the machine for him and was whining over its final destruction, left the room now engulfed in a huge fire and thick clouds of acrid smoke.

Once in relative safety in the hall, Jim gently lay a limp Artemus down on a sofa while two soldiers framed Michelito Loveless aiming their guns at him. Looking at an officer standing behind them, he ordered him, "I want Dr. Beckett here. Go fetch him from the cell car, Lieutenant."

The young man saluted and said, "Yes Sir!" and he left, running toward the door.

Loveless Jr. glared at James West. "I will escape from prison, again. I will have my revenge Mr. West. It's just a matter of time."

Jim smiled. "Speaking of time, your time travel machine is gone, shorty. Sergeant, Corporal, bring back Mr. Loveless Jr. to the cell car. And don't let him escape."

The soldiers framing Loveless shook their heads. "We won't, Sir," they replied in chorus. And they escorted the short man out of the room.

Ignoring Loveless's glare aimed at him, he a dded, "And put him in chains! He will have to get used to it because he will be shackled with irons at the federal penitentiary."

The short man growled, "I will kill you, and your partner! It's a promise!"

Not impressed, Jim replied, "Like father, like son. Your father told me that many times, and Artemus and I are still alive. He failed, you'll fail. Take him!"

Michelito Loveless was marshalled out of the room.

Lupita Quesada, who was waiting in the hall for Jim to come back with Artie, sat down beside the man she was in love with. Very concerned, she pressed two fingers against his pulse and found it fast but still strong under clammy skin. "He's badly wounded," she said frowning, very worried. "What happened?"

Shaking his head, Jim replied, "A bandit shot him…" And he didn't elaborate as Artie had not said anything to Lupita about Andamo yet. But he would, he thought. He nodded. "It's a clean wound, through and through, I think no major organs were touched, but he has lost a lot of blood and he's weak and weakening."

Lupita cupped Artemus's cheeks in her hands, leaned toward him and kissed his lips, softly and slowly. "Artemus, love… open your eyes." There was no reaction. "Artemus, open your eyes querido," she said, then pressed her lips to his brow. She pulled back again. "Artemus?"

Moaning, Artemus slowly half-opened his eyes. "M' here… Hello mi general," he said with a weak smile watching in adoration Lupita's face leaning toward his. With the last of his energy reserves he raised his hand and brushed her cheek tenderly. "Lupita, I… I have something to ask you…" he added, taking her hand to his mouth and then he tenderly kissed her knuckles. "I know it's not the ideal place or the ideal moment to propose you but… Lupita, will you marry me?" He asked her, looking hopefully up at her.

Hearing that Jim beamed. "Ah! Finally! It's about time! I was wondering when you were going to propose to her. Congratulations to both of you."

Rolling his eyes, Artemus said, "What? Finally? It's about time? Lupita and I just had our first date… which was sabotaged by Loveless!"

Jim nodded. "That's true, buddy, but you have been in love with each other for a long time – life separated you both, then it reunited you, and love was still there - intact."

Lupita couldn't help but giggle. "You're right, Jim, but I didn't say yes."

Smiling, and looking expectantly at Lupita, Artemus said, "But you will."

She placed her lips over the older man's, placing several gentle kisses across it. then she cupped his feverish face." You are sure of it."

Nodding, Artemus replied, "Oh yes I am…" Oh yes he was. He was going to marry Lupita and later have a child, named Feliz, Andamo's father, he thought.

Lupita glanced around her. "It's such a romantic place to propose to me Artemus, and the timing is absolutely perfect: there's a raging fire in the next room, the whole house is full of soldiers and you're bleeding on my dress, ruining it…"

Letting out a soft chuckle, Artie grasped one of Lupita's hands, interlacing their fingers. His eyelids were suddenly heavy, blood rushing in his ears and his head was starting to spin. "Welcome to my life, dear."

She smiled. "I know what your life is, Artemus. I'm maybe a General, and the Head of the Mexican Secret Service, but I like to participate to field missions as much as I can. I can't stay sitting behind my desk, I love action and the thrill of danger far too much for that." She smiled and added, "Maybe you could work for me… It's difficult to find good agents…"

Smiling too, he shook his head and replied, "Or maybe you could work at my side, with Jim. The Wanderer is big enough for three."

Lupita shook her head in her turn. "But your bed is too small for two…"

Jim chuckled. "Maybe you could postpone this interesting conversation… Artie needs medical help and the house has started to burn."

Lupita pressed her mouth up against his, kissing him deeply, languorously, one hand buried in Artie's dark hair and the other lovingly rubbing circles at his nape. Then she pulled away and said, "Yes I will." She kissed Artie again and he responded with a hungry kiss, open-mouthed, devouring her lips for a few seconds … before his head lolled backward and he went limp, unconscious again.

Lupita pressed a sweet kiss to Artemus's temple while running her fingers through his dark, wavy hair. "I love you so much…"

Dr. Beckett rushed into the room at that very moment. "Where's my bag?" he asked, heading toward his wounded patient.

WWW

 _Mexican Embassy, Washington DC_

 _A week later_

 _Guest room_

Sitting cross-legged on top of the bed Lupita said, "Let me take care of everything," and as it sounded like an order Artemus nodded in agreement and saluted.

She smiled. "You don't mind?"

Smiling too, Artie shook his head. "No I don't, do whatever you want. I'm yours."

She gave him a gentle shove back onto the bed then crawled up to join him, still fully dressed in her favorite black pants and bolero jacket.

She loosened his black string tie, pulled it over his head and let it fall to the floor where it joined the special agent's blue and dark gray jacket Then she started opening Artemus's button-down shirt using her nimble fingers, slowly, progressively, revealing his broad and muscular chest.

She was enjoying every second of it, eyes shining with pleasure.

In response Artie traced the collar of Lupita's Spanish white shirt with a fingertip. "You saw me half-naked, remember?" He said.

Lupita pouted. "I know and you're ruining the moment… Let's say that I didn't. I was dreaming of doing that – I mean undressing you - since I fell in love with you, after the kiss and the slap in your face."

He chuckled. "How romantic!"

She ignored that and continued what she was doing and pulled Artemus's yellow shirt off and threw it onto the carpet at the end of the bed, leaving him bare-chested and looked down at the tight, white bandage wrapped around his injured middle.

She touched it warily and said, "Maybe we should wait Artemus… I don't want you to burst your stiches and even less hurt you."

Smiling again, reassuringly, Artie reached out, index finger tracing a soft line down the curve of Lupita's neck. "I'm okay, my wound has started healing nicely… and we can make love slowly, gently. There's no rush. We have the whole night… all the time in the world to spend together as lovers, kissing and touching, exploring and discovering…."

Lupita's dark eyes twinkled wickedly in response. "You won't say that in a few minutes…" She said, raising a hand up. She stroked Artemus's cheek tenderly. "I love you Artemus. God, I love you so much…" then she pushed Artie backward, her hands wandering across her chest. threading the fingers of one hand through his hair. "So very much…"

Smoothing his fingertips against Lupita's knee, Artemus said, "I love you Lupita, so very much, " his eyes staring into hers he settled on a nest of pillows, comfortably and opened his arms wide as an invitation to continue to undress him, his heartbeat quickening.

But Lupita didn't. She straddled Artie's lap before leaning forward until their lips almost touched. She peppered his chin and neck in butterfly kisses before licking over the base of his neck. He tilted his head to the side and she continued to place tender kisses across his jaw line.

He pouted in his turn, looking disappointed. "Why did you stop stripping me of my clothes. I'm still wearing so many of them…"

Lupita shook her finger. "Slowly and gently, you said? Patience is a virtue," she said, a hushed whisper against his ear. Then she moved her lips downward, slowly, leaving a trail of light kisses down to his navel. After that she started nibbling and sucking at a random patch of skin here and there.

Shifting on the bed under Lupita's ministrations with small moans of appreciation, Artie gripped the fabric beneath him tightly and let out a whimper. It was like electricity across his skin. He breathed, "I always thought I was a very patient man… but I've just discovered I'm not, not at all." And he gasped when Lupita sucked the skin between her teeth there. "I didn't know that you wanted to torture me…"

Lupita grinned, her black eyes full of wickedness, crinkling at the edges. "You have a lot of things to discover about me, Artemus, a lot," she purred before leaving a wet kiss just under his navel and he shivered from the sensation.

He frowned, intrigued. "Like what?"

She pulled back and brushed her mouth across Artie's. "I'm very talented with a knife… It's my favorite weapon, he smallest blade is deadly, it's easy to hide, it's quiet, you can use a knife in different ways, you can throw it, use the blade to cut, stab..."

He touched his skin just above his Adam's apple, where Lupita had placed the tip of her knife when, disguised as an old man, he had first met her. "To threaten people with… I remember you threatening me with a knife in that olleria, telling me 'you are very close to death'… "

Lupita smiled broadly, removed Artemus's fingers from his neck and kissed the exact spot where his fingertips had been. Then she said, "I wouldn't have killed you, Artemus, I just wanted to scare you to force you to tell me what your 'son' had told you."

He nodded. "I'll never forget our first meeting - although at that moment I was not Artemus Gordon but disguised as an old Texan man."

She began working on his belt buckle, slowly. "It was a great disguise… and a great performance." After that she unbuttoned his pants watching her future fiancé squirm on the brightly fringed and colored bedspread. "I was really impressed, afterwards."

He smiled, pleased by the compliment. "Thanks."

Feeling less and less patient, and feeling a stirring between his thighs, Artemus groaned and breathed, "Lupita, please…" He pleaded, with a catch in his voice, a struggle to hide his need.

Lupita cracked a little smile, satisfied with her effect so far. "Please what Artemus?" She asked with a smirk. "Tell me what you want."

Raising his arms, Artemus brushed Lupita's hair behind her ears with both hands then trailing lower, skimmed over her neck and collarbone. Then he slowly pulled her toward him and lifting his head he met Lupita's lips. They kissed, deeply, passionately. "Please, I don't know how much more of this teasing I can take… and you perfectly know what I want. Let me make love to you," he said, panting slightly.

Lupita kept his goal in mind and loosening the belt around her soon-to-be-lover's pants and, moving into the space between his wide-opened legs, she shoved the material down to his knees. "Patience my dear Artemus; patience," she admonished with a devilish smile.

She bent down and brushed her lips against the side of her soon-to-be lover's neck, beginning a slow trail of biting and sucking up to his jawline and nipped at a tender spot just under his ear. Artie hummed happily and closed his hands on Lupita's back.

She finally placed her lips on his lips and it didn't take long for their tongues to press together, dancing around and tasting each other as if it was the first time.

Breaking the kiss reluctantly, Lupita pulled away tugging on Artie's bottom lip, eliciting a groan of frustration from Artemus and she looked down at his now too tight black underwear, shivers running down her spine and right to her center. A flush colored her face as she hooked one finger into the waistband… Artie's breathing hitched, mouth half-open.

Suddenly someone knocked at the door, then a male voice said, "Genera! ¡es urgente! el embajador quiere verte de inmediato! él tiene un mensaje importante del Presidente para comunicarse con usted." Then he knocked again louder. "General Quesada!"

Shooting a glare at the door, Artemus replied, "Don't disturb us! Damnit! She's not going anywhere! Go away!" and he repeated that in Spanish followed with a threatening growl.

Freezing, sighing in both frustration and anger to be disturbed in her foreplay, Lupita said, "Llego enseguida!" then she cringed. "I'm so sorry Artemus..."

Stroking Lupita's hair, Artemus was of course disappointed but that was duty calling. So he understood. He too had had such inconveniences with women in the past… He nodded and said, "It's okay, I understand. Duty calls. I know that. Go! Your President needs you General."

Lupita placed a soft kiss on Artemus's lips before climbing off his body. "I won't be long," she promised, and then she left the bed and headed toward the door.

WWW

 _Later_

Lupita came back half an hour later and found Artemus sitting on the bed, his b ack propped on comfy pillows, smoking a cigar, wrapped in a cloud of bluish smoke.

She sat down at the edge of the bed and took his hand in his. She was embarrassed. "I'm sorry Artemus but I can't stay. I have to leave Washington and head back to Mexico. The President needs me at his side as soon as possible. I can't tell you more. It's top secret."

He nodded and proposed, "You could travel on the Wanderer, she's the fastest train in the country, and we could be together…"

Lupita sighed. "I would love to, but I can't. I will travel with the Ambassador on board his own train. I'm sorry."

Placing the cigar in the ashtray sat on the nightstand, Artie said, "I understand… But you could wait for… what ten minutes?"

Lupita chuckled. "I thought you wanted to make love slowly and gently?" She leaned down while her thumb stroked Artemus's cheek lovingly. "We'll see each other again, Artemus. And the next time we'll stay in bed for days, making love for hours and hours…"

He smiled his hand coming up to trace Lupita's cheek. "I look forward to this…"

Lupita pressed a kiss to Artie's lips, then she stood and said, "And then we will get engaged and there will be a big Mexican party! I love you Artemus."

He smiled, took Lupita's hand in his and pressed a kiss into the palm of her hand, his eyes shining with tenderness "I love you too Lupita."

WWW

 _Two weeks later, on the Wanderer_

The sudden whistle of the train together with the noise of the engine woke up Artemus Gordon. He pulled himself into a sitting position on the couch, closed the book lying on his lap and yawned. "Mmm… did I sleep for a long time?" he asked Jim, who was sat at the writing table, cleaning his gun.

James shook his head. "One hour or so. We received a new assignment when you were sleeping, buddy. We're about to leave."

Irritated Artie groaned. "No, not now! My engagement with Lupita is scheduled in a week in Washington. Malone knows that! I invited him. I shouldn't have."

Jim smiled. "Don't worry, Artie, the whole mission should take two or three days, that's all. We have to pick up the sister of the Ambassador of France in Chicago and we just have to give her a ride to Washington. I heard she's lovely."

Frowning Artie shook his finger. "Future husband here. No more girls for me, and for you either. You're a married man, Jim."

Jim nodded. "But we can enjoy the presence of a young and lovely lady, right?"

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. "Ah! I think my engagement gift to you has arrived. He's punctual," Jim said with a wicked smile.

Artie blinked twice in confusion. "He? Your engagement gift to me is a person? A man?"

Grinning Jim nodded. "He arrived yesterday evening while you were at the Mexican Embassy with Lupita. It was a surprise for me, and a great one! I booked a room for him in the best hotel in Washington because I didn't want him to come here before you came back. I wanted it to be a complete surprise." He opened the door and said, "Welcome to your second home, my boy."

Holding a travel bag, Andamo smiled broadly and entered the parlor car. "Hi!" He said.

The end


End file.
